UB40's saxophonist Brian Travis has just celebrated his seventh year in a steady job. And it still beats signing on, as he explains to Paul Trynka

For a band who were originally the epitome of sweet dole music, UB40 are increasingly assuming the stature of a multi-national conglomerate. It's a process which the constituent members themselves are well aware of, and similarly they make no attempt to conceal their desire to attain a comfortable lifestyle, an aim which is so far notably successful. It would be natural, therefore, for this band to be vulnerable to charges of being out of touch, but these are accusations which the band themselves take pains to anticipate.

"I think that now we're jaded to a degree, simply because we've been touring for seven years and there's not a lot of things in the business that we haven't actually done. We've headlined at massive festivals, done loads of television... When we started off we were really precious and gallant about everything, we were preposterously naive — not that that's a bad thing. That was really healthy, I like to see bands who are precious about what they do, even if they still can't play in tune, who are really dedicated and serious.

"It is difficult to find stimulating projects to work on, really difficult, but as a result of that you have to work hard to find new areas to explore, and it does in a way help sustain your career. We are still really excited about being in a band, though, it's tremendous. We get to different places, go in the bar and get drunk. We still enjoy playing gigs, we enjoy the whole thing."

The UB speaking at this moment is Brian Travis, the sax player, who also directs all the videos for DEP International, the UB40 organisation which encompasses recording and rehearsal studios and a record label. This obviously represents a fair amount of capital, and brings to mind a lot of the normal cliches about bands who were initially skint and socialist. The politics still remain the same, but there are no pretences about the change in financial status.

"Sometimes it's hard for us to be what we've always been able to be; down to earth and straight about what we're saying, because we're not poor any more. We're not rich either, but we all own cars and live in our own houses — which is exactly what we've always aimed for anyway, that's why people work.

"So in that respect the album was a little different, inasmuch that we had to think very hard about what we said, so we didn't sound like we were contradicting ourselves or being pretentious. So that was a bit difficult, but as far as anything else goes it was pretty simple, we just stick to what we do best, we're not out to impress anybody."

UB40's studio complex in Birmingham is by no means low tech; at present the main studio is based around an Amek Angela desk and an Otari multitrack with possible plans to update to a Mitsubishi digital system. Yet the sound of Reggae is to a large extent associated with heavily abused Jamaican 16-track setups.

"State of the art stuff doesn't help if we want to sound like a Jamaican Roots-Reggae band. But then we're not, we're from Birmingham. We might get some stick for that, but it doesn't really matter, the only criterion for music should be that it progresses, that there's something new. I think that Reggae is actually catching us up a little in the hi-tech stakes, if you think of Paul Blake and Blood Fire Posse... All the English outfits are using drum machines and synthesizers. Then there's Sly and Robbie, of course."

So are there any occasions when you actually find yourself trying to get a ropey sound out of hi-tech equipment?

"Sure, that happens, but at the same time we make lots of mistakes as well, and don't do stuff the way it could be done at its best. We tend to write all the music together in the studio as a band, live, jamming, making arrangements. Then when we start recording properly, depending on the track, to get a good feeling we might record some stuff together. But if it's a straight 4/4 we'll put down everything separately, just so's there's no interference.

"The horns we always do all together, everybody at the same time, and if it's bad we do it again. We've got a five-piece horn section — I find it totally exciting to play as part of a big section. That's the way I write all my parts now, as five piece horn arrangements. It's such a good feeling to have five acoustic instruments going at the same time — it's so loud! We have a couple of brothers playing with us, Patrick and Buttons Tenew, from Brixton on trumpet and trombone... They workout with Dennis Brown, Linton Kwesi, a few dub bands, everybody south of the river really!"

Current UB40 projects include an imminent Russian tour, and some recording with Gil Scott-Heron. The latter's politics are fairly close to those of the UBs, even if they are expressed rather more forcefully. However, whereas with Gil Scott-Heron the political views have helped to prevent success on a wide scale, the effect on UB40 has been somewhat different.

"I think our political position over the years has only affected us to a small degree, overall the good has far outweighed the bad. We're a multi-racial band, so it's very easy for the bourgeoisie and the middle-class media outlets to prove how non reactionary they are, that they're not racist or commie-haters, by working with us. I think we give people the opportunity to gain themselves a little legitimacy — if that doesn't sound too preposterous!

"It's always been totally our choice, though, to have a low media profile. To be in the Sun or the Daily Mirror every day all you have to do is to buy yourself a press agent and feed them with every piece of crap you think they want to know — we try not to partake in that. I think a lot of bands split up and get unnecessary pressure put upon them because of their public persona, whereas we haven't got one. So we don't have any ego problems."

UB40 are generally seen as being a democratic bunch, and it's a point that continuously crops up in the conversation. A major factor in this is the fact that the whole lot of them all started school on the same day, so there's not much scope for claims of excessive juvenile accomplishments: "We can all remember who pissed their pants on the first day..."

Brian is speaking from a hotel room in Minneapolis, with the occasional cop-car siren clearly audible over the phone, Earl's just gone for a bike ride, but the overall impression is still that of a bunch of school kids who just happened to get a job working for the same firm. They all started learning their respective instruments at the same time when most of them had bedsits in the same house.

"The sax is the worst instrument in the world when you're learning — I used to despise it, it was such a pig just to get the right pitch. I used to practise all the time in my bedsit, but there was this Hell's Angel, a real tough motherfucker, who lived in the flat next to me. He had a really good attitude — he didn't come round and complain about the racket, he just went out and bought a trumpet. Then when I'd been practising, he'd wait until everything was quiet, and start blowing this trumpet, really loud and out of tune. I got a lot of other complaints, too — but these days I can keep it in reason; we've actually got a proper place to rehearse. I've got a bit more gear now though, but I haven't gone through a lot of instruments. I've got a Lyricon, the wind synthesizer, but in the main I use a Selmer Super 80 tenor and a Mark VII Alto. I went through a short time when I thought that to play the saxophone you had to play like Charlie Parker or John Coltrane — but I soon grew out of it..."

Seven years on, the various UBs don't all live in the same house any more, but most of their kids now go to the same school in Birmingham — maybe 10 years on there'll be a second generation in the industry. For UB40, music is a very worthy and earnest business; the artistic temperament has no part to play here, for although all the band members profess themselves lucky and grateful to be performing music for a living, they've got no illusions about it being anything but a business:

"You have to be serious about it — it is a business, if you start considering yourself an artist, certain things are going to fuck you up, and it's ultimately going to be painful for you being in the business."

A statement of intent that says it all...