Status symbol

Francis Rossi talks beer – via fame, money, dog-ownership, gardening and the advantages of an Italian upbringing – with Ferment’s Richard Croasdale.

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In the 70s and 80s, Francis Rossi and musical partner Rick Parfitt took Status Quo to international stardom, helping shape the pop-rock sound that defined those decades. At 67, Francis remains a bona-fide force of nature, full of the energy and swagger that have always made him such a compelling performer.


Prior to our interview, I had obviously been keen to ask Francis about the band’s two beers and one cider – my questions revolved around working with Hobson’s and Wynchwood breweries, getting the perfect recipe to sum up their attitude and music, raising money for the Dog’s Trust with each sale. But I lost control of the conversation almost immediately, blindsided by Francis’ opening revelation that he’d just narrowly avoided cutting his “knob off while doing the gardening”.

“I mean, I could afford to lose a bit, but that’s not really the point is it? Anyway, what are we talking about today? Beer? Oh fuck, I was hoping it was the cider; I really like the cider.”

The cider, in this case, is Status Quo Down Down, created by Francis, Rick and Celtic Marshes. It’s done well, by all accounts, and Francis talks about it with obvious enthusiasm. “It’s a bit of a nostalgia thing for me. My family’s Italian, so growing up we always had lambrusco at the dinner table, or red wine with ice and lemonade. Anything sweet and alcoholic takes me back there.


“When they first told me they wanted to call the cider Down Down I said ‘fuck it, you’re not are you?’. But I came round to it. I liked The Dog of Two Head because I could imagine some bloke walking into a pub and saying ‘pint of Dog please mate’. I like things like that.”

While he’s not so much of a beer lover, he’s still very proud of the two beers launched under the Status Quo name, and enjoyed the process.

“Going down to the breweries and picking the flavours we wanted was great fun. We’ll go down there and try a lot of stuff out. When we went to Wynchwood we both ended up having an afternoon nap on their sofas.

The observation that bands drink a lot of beer on the road feels a little trite, so I ask Francis if there’s any deeper connection between the process of making great music and making great beer – some profound synergy that draws so many musicians to the art of brewing.

“Yeah,” he replies with a straight face. “We’re all basically show-offs and it’s a great way of making money. I’ve got a pension, but the Government keeps moving the goalposts and I’ve become accustomed to a certain lifestyle, haven’t I?”

He’s being facetious, but I press him further. Does the beer reflect the music, their own personal tastes, or was it just a straight-up celebrity endorsement?

“Its funny,” he replies, after a brief pause (very brief – Francis doesn’t really do pauses). “When you’re selling a lot of music and you see the figures, you see the amount of money these records are bringing in, it’s exciting. I grew up in retail [Francis is a scion of the Rossi ice-cream dynasty] and it’s exciting to be in the middle of something that’s doing well.


“We’re asked to get commercially involved with stuff all the time. Sometimes these things work out and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes we’ll pass something up that could have been really successful. A couple of the drinks we’ve done have done really well, and that’s been great to see.

“So yeah, if you wanted to view it cynically, having our name is on the bottle is a way of marketing the beer. But at the same time, we wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been fun, or if we didn’t think it was good enough to sell. Of course we wouldn’t.”

Discussing personal consumption is always dangerous territory with rock stars – too many blew through entire decades in a hedonistic storm of booze, drugs and personal drama, and don’t often care to relive past pain. Francis is characteristically straight though, perhaps sensing the direction of my questioning and wishing to save my blushes.

“I’m not a big drinker, and never really was,” he announces. “There was a short time when I started drinking – just because that’s what people did – and I realised I was suddenly drinking a lot. That really put me off, and I’ve been very moderate ever since.


“A lot of people ask me about the ‘rock and roll lifestyle’. We were around in the 60s and saw a lot of that. But it’s not a rock and roll lifestyle, there’s no such thing; it’s just kids being stupid and being indulged because they’re making money. As long as they’re making money, the industry looks the other way at their bad behaviour. And it’s wrong because that does catch up with you.”

It must be difficult though, being thrust into the limelight, with all the money and adoration you can handle when you’re basically still in your teens.

“Well that’s the thing, when you’re in it, you never really expect it to last. We certainly didn’t expect to still be doing this in our late 60s – that’s not how you think when you’re young. There’s a fantastic interview, Michael Parkinson talking to Mick Jagger in 1965. The Stones had been going two years, and Parky asked how much longer he thought they could keep going. And Jagger says ‘oh I think we’ll be okay for another year’. That’s what it’s like!”

Having struggled to pin him down to a straightforward answer for half an hour, I’m somewhat surprised by how Francis reacts when I ask him whether he still enjoys performing, given that most of the band’s hits are now 30 years behind them. His answer is direct, and his sincerity clearly unforced.

“We’re one of those bands, we have a back catalogue of songs that people know and have a lot of affection for,” he says. “Some old bands you hear complaining about their biggest hits, that people still want them to play the same songs. How fucking ungrateful is that? When we were young we begged people – everyone did – to buy our records, and now people complain about it? Status Quo have been so fucking lucky; not only that people wanted to buy our records at the time, but that they still want to hear us. I mean that, we’re so grateful to the people that still turn out, and we still love playing.

“But yeah, buy the beer. It’s the best fucking beer you’ll ever taste.”

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