Interview and Pictures: Adrian Hextall / MindHex Media
There are rock and roll stories, and then there are the epic, sprawling, bourbon-soaked fables that could only belong to Spike. The frontman of The Quireboys is more than just a singer; he is a narrator, a survivor, and the indefatigable keeper of a flame that has, at times, threatened to be extinguished. To spend any time in his company is to be swept up in a whirlwind of history, from the building sites of 1980s London to the sun-bleached boulevards of L.A., with every tale delivered in that unmistakable Geordie lilt.
Fresh from a period of turmoil that would have seen most throw in the towel, Spike is not just surviving; he is creatively thriving. He’s bubbling with infectious excitement about a new solo project, ‘Spike and the Geordie Rogues’, a heartfelt, folksy love letter to his Newcastle roots, complete with a plan to tour the nation’s forgotten working men’s clubs. But the main story, the one of profound loss and triumphant rebirth, is the story of The Quireboys. After a bitter battle for the band’s name and the tragic loss of his oldest friend and co-writer, Guy Bailey, Spike has emerged with Wardour Street, arguably the most significant album of their career. It’s a record born from grief, forged in loyalty, and delivered with the defiant, good-time swagger that is their trademark.
To understand the victory of Wardour Street, you have to go back to the beginning. The Quireboys’ story is, at its heart, a love story between two best friends. Spike met Guy Bailey not in a smoky bar or a dingy rehearsal room, but on a London building site. “I’d moved to London when I was 16,” Spike recalls. “My father walked me around every building site until I got a job.” He and Guy worked together, played pool, put coins in the jukebox, but never once discussed music. “I didn’t know he could play the guitar; he didn’t know I could play the guitar,” he laughs.
The fateful moment came one afternoon in Guy’s flat, which overlooked the Oval cricket ground. Spike’s father had just brought his Yamaha acoustic down from Newcastle. “We wrote ‘How Do You Feel?’, ‘Roses and Rings’… my dad was in the other room watching the cricket on the telly out the window. He turned around and went, ‘You know what? You two should start a bloody band.’ That’s how it started. It was the truth.”
Maid of Stone Festival 2025
That instant, almost mystical connection became the engine room of The Quireboys. Their shared love for The Rolling Stones and raw, honest rock and roll defined their sound. Even the band’s famous moniker was born from their shared history. Originally calling themselves The Choirboys, after the movie, a fellow builder took one look at their rough-and-tumble appearance and declared, “You should be called the fucking Queerboys!” The name stuck. “We never expected what was going to happen,” Spike admits. “We just thought, let’s have a laugh.”
Fast forward almost four decades, and that laughter had been replaced by a bitter dispute over the very name they had created. As a conflict over the band’s future erupted publicly, Spike made a conscious decision to hold his tongue, a move that proved excruciatingly difficult. “There was so much nastiness and so many lies,” he says, the frustration still evident in his voice. “But we never said a word. My family, everyone, was asking what was going on. I just said, ‘Let’s bide our time.’ I wasn’t brought up like that, and I didn’t want to lower ourselves to what was going on. Let’s come out good on the end of this.”
His dignified silence was a rallying cry. The first person to call him was his oldest friend. “Guy was actually the one that was more upset than anybody,” Spike remembers. Soon, the original gang began to reassemble. Founding bassist Nigel Mogg, pianist Chris Johnstone, and drummer Rudy Richman all pledged their allegiance. This was no longer just Spike’s fight; it was a collective reclaiming of a shared legacy. The triumphant, sold-out show at London’s Islington Academy in late 2022 was the thunderous confirmation: The Quireboys were back where they belonged.
But just as victory was secured, tragedy struck. Guy Bailey, Spike’s creative other half, passed away. The band was faced with the monumental task of creating a new album, their definitive statement of rebirth, while grieving the loss of its architect. “It’s been really difficult for me to listen to anything,” Spike admits softly. “When I’m singing our songs, all I do is think of him. I think about how he wrote them. I could break down like that, you know? It really is difficult.”
To help navigate this emotional and creative minefield, they turned to another old friend: Luke Morley of Thunder. Having risen through the same London scene, their bond was forged decades earlier. “We were always helping each other, we’d done so many shows together,” Spike says. Morley was the perfect choice to produce and play guitar on the new record. “He remembered when we were just one guitar and Guy Bailey. He totally understood where I was coming from. We’re not Americana, right? We’re English rock and roll. And for a while, we were in danger of forgetting that.”
Maid of Stone Festival 2025
The resulting album, Wardour Street, is a masterpiece of authenticity. Its title track was conceived in a moment of pure, spontaneous inspiration. “We were in a pub or somewhere,” Spike recounts, “And I said, ‘Come on, let’s write a new song.’ He went, ‘What we gonna write about now?’ I said, ‘Let’s have a look at the window where we are. It’s fucking Wardour Street!’”
The record is steeped in the band’s classic, freewheeling sound, but it’s also a deeply personal tribute. Spike reveals a poignant secret, a final, touching collaboration. “If you listen to the song ‘Wardour Street’… I snuck Guy’s voice on it at the end. I didn’t tell anybody.” It’s a ghost in the machine, a whisper from the past that consecrates the album as a true testament to their enduring friendship.
The recording also marked the joyous return of Nigel Mogg, whose presence has been a shot in the arm for the band. “Everybody’s very shocked about Nigel, because everybody thinks Nigel can’t play,” Spike chuckles. “But Luke said to me, ‘Actually, he came in, all prepared and he was wonderful.’ If you watch him live, he’s on the ball. It’s so great to have him back. It’s like me and him again, you know? I can’t wait to get on stage, get away from all this shit around us and just relax.”
Maid of Stone Festival 2025
That renewed energy and passion is precisely what the Maid of Stone crowd can expect. Their festival set will be a celebration, a heady mix of the timeless anthems that are part of British rock’s DNA, alongside the powerful, resonant new tracks from Wardour Street. “We’ll be playing a mixture of it, you know, in an hour,” Spike confirms. “We’ll get everybody going.”
The future is bright and busy. Beyond a packed summer of festival headline slots across the UK and Europe, Spike is preparing for another beautiful act of remembrance: he’s heading into the studio to record vocals for Thirsty, the final, unreleased album Guy Bailey was working on. “I’m going to go in and sing on the songs,” he says, his voice filled with pride. “So I’ll be duetting with him. I’ll be singing with Guy Bailey. I’m really looking forward to that. It’s really cheered me up.”
From the building sites of his youth to the biggest stages in the world, through breakups, reunions, triumph, and tragedy, Spike has remained rock and roll’s great survivor. He’s stared down the abyss and answered it with a new collection of songs that honour his band’s past while defiantly charging into the future. Wardour Street isn’t just another album; it’s proof that you can’t kill a spirit built on true friendship and timeless music. This is more than a comeback; it’s a homecoming..
https://www.spikequireboys.com/
About Author
