Tim Hughes speaks to Jimmy Brown of UB40 — the band who brought reggae to the masses and land soon in Oxford

They were a fixture in the charts for two decades but, UB40 are more than just a pop group — they were among the first mainstream bands to bring reggae to the masses.

“Reggae is inclusive music,” says drummer Jimmy Brown, an original member of the 70m record-selling band. “It’s not sophisticated, not ‘clever-clever’ or particularly intelligent, but it has a primal effect on people and brings them together. It’s inclusive, and our raison d’être.”

“We have had the nod of approval from our heroes” he goes on. “Reggae musicians have always been really generous to us. The only time we’ve had a snotty reaction is from young music journalists who don’t understand the background to our music.”

Jimmy, 56, is effusive about the band’s role in the history of music — “Point me in the right direction and I could talk for England!” he says in soft Brummie tones, warming to his theme. “We’ve trod the boards and are still in our element on stage. We have a lot we can draw on. There’s a lot of new stuff and original stuff to keep the old fans in ecstasy!”

Formed in 1978, and playing their first gig a year later, they are now celebrating 35 years performing live. Over that time, they’ve become part of our shared culture. Everybody knows their hits, tunes such as chart-toppers Red Red Wine, Can’t Help Falling in Love and their cover of I Got You Babe, which were among more than 50 charting singles.

“From the beginning, we always thought we’d be successful,” says Jimmy. “Every band does. But we didnt think past the first record — and certainly didn’t think we’d still be here more than 35 years later.”

But, he insists, the Birmingham band, named after an official unemployment benefit form, were always about more than making hits.

Formed at the tail-end of the ’70s, their brand of reggae, and multi-cultural make-up (boasting members with British, Irish, Yemeni and Jamaican backgrounds), built bridges at a time when communities were more mixed, but not necessarily harmonious.

“We didn’t come from a punk or two-tone back-ground,” he says, recalling his formative years in Small Heath. “We were townies; we were working class people getting dressed up for the weekend and going to dances. Our generation made friends with the kids of first generat-ion Caribbean immigrants. We grew up together.

“At the time reggae didn’t get on the radio or TV, but if the house next door had a ‘blues’ [reggae party] you’d go along. It became our culture. We were always going to be a hybrid of reggae and pop. It was a good time for music. Now those areas are more like ghettos with one type of culture.

“The suburbs were dangerous then, with skinhead gangs. It was like Clockwork Orange. We were aware of racism then, but I think in some ways it’s worse now; it’s just not as upfront as in those days. We used to go to National Front demonstrations to break them up.

“We’d get thousands of people turn up to make mincemeat out of half-a-dozen Nazis. But racism was still culturally acceptable. Just look at the TV programmes of the time — like Love Thy Neighbour. Till Death Us Do Part was a great parody, but people didn’t realise it was taking the mickey. Words unthinkable now were part of everyday vocabulary.”

So how did they come up with their distinctive sound? “It was accidental,” he insists. “When we got together we just made this sound. It wasn’t forced, it just comes out that way. What we have is chemistry. It’s nirvana for a band to have a unique sound that everyone can recognise.”

The band earned their big break after being spotted in a pub by The Pretenders’ Chrissie Hynde, who gave them a support slot for her own band. Their debut single King/Food for Thought reached Number Four in the charts and was followed, in 1980, by debut album Signing Off, so called as it coincided with the band actually ‘signing off’ the dole. It reached Number Two and has since gone platinum. The band’s frontman Ali Campbell quit in 2008, citing frustration with the band’s business management, rather than any artistic differences. He set up his own breakaway faction – UB40 Reunited — and was joined by keyboardist Mike Virtue.

Ali was replaced upfront in UB40 itself by his brother Duncan. Muddy-ing the water further, the pair’s older brother Robin also remains in the line-up. “We lost a few on the way but the nucleus of the band is still there,” says Jimmy. “We haven’t seen Ali since the day he left. He’s doing his own thing. We wish him well, and hope he makes a success, but we want to carry on doing our thing — and have never stopped. We’re firing on all cylinders.”

“We fit so perfectly on stageand things are going well. When we put this tour together it sold so well we had to put more dates on. These are the best shows for years and the audience at each one has been phenomenal.

“When we played our first gig the audience went mad. We were looking behind us to see what was going on because the reaction was so over-the-top. That’s happened ever since. The audience loves it and we love doing it.

“We are a live band more than anything and are not playing to backing tracks or computers. It’s all live and it’s second nature. We are fully-grown blokes, not kids, and everyone gives 100 per cent. And our intention is to pin your ears to the back wall. We are not a cabaret band. These are dynamic shows - we get complaints about ears bleeding.

“We’ve become icons as veterans after 35 years of doing it,” he smiles. “There’s an element of celebration that adds to the fun of the gigs.

“It’s been a miraculous journey — and one we are still on.”

UB40
O2 Academy Oxford
Monday, October 27
Tickets have sold out