PAUL HEATON IS BACK. From his holidays, in the Canaries, where he does the song-writing. And The Beautiful South are back. Their new album, 'Superbi', is fresh, modern and pointed, like a brand new pencil. "We always mean to be fresh," says Paul, "But we never get round to it."

In a career that's contained more Greatest Hits albums than some people have greatest hits, The Beautiful South may possibly have earned the right to lie back and go stale. But 'Superbi' contains no hint of old bread smells. This may be because it's the sequel to 2005's covers album. Was this a battery recharge? "Doing covers gives you bit more space, timewise. As a songwriter, you don't have to do anything, you can arrange but you don't have any song-writing to do," Paul says, "And while you're doing that, you find all these new songs running round in your head."

One of the striking differences between this and previous Beautiful South albums is that it doesn't sound like previous Beautiful South albums. New instruments have appeared, steel guitars, dobros, and things that don't sound tinkly or warm. "It feels as though Mike Wrong - or Ian Stanley as he's called - encapsulated our sound," says Paul. "We've always struggled in the studio. Not as in toiling and sweaty with our shirts off - more that we never hit the nail on the head with the faster uptempo songs. Ian came to the rehearsals right from the start, and instead of going with the stuff that was working, he went with the songs that weren't. He was trying to make them right." Mike Wrong, or Ian Stanley as he's called, also changed pop history. "He was the first person to say to Dave Rotheray, 'I want more attitude'". Attitude fills this album like a bath. There are more guitars than before, although that might only mean that there are two guitars. It is as near to rock as The Beautiful South have ever been. "I'm still not rock," Paul claims, "Although I have got a bit of a semi beard... but you have to be careful with that. The real painful part of people's career is when they don the leather jacket and get the motorbike."

Despite this, 'Superbi' is more alt. country than bedroom soul. "It all just evolved," says Paul." I know that's going to sound like a bullshit answer, but we weren't fiddling around with drums and bass ten weeks in. We were happy from the start and by the time we'd finished the vocals, we'd sat down in Bakewell and decided where this record should go."

Recorded in the triple rock meccas of Bakewell, Real World and Enniskerry (where musician Johnny Scott came along and spread dobro everywhere), 'Superbi' was a fluid recording, and every time the band moved, they had a think. "That's why Ian was good, he was listening to our stuff in the car and trying to analyse where we'd gone wrong." It's the fresh thing again. "Normally, we go into each record with a fresh attidue and get more conservative as the days go on. With Ian, the reverse happened. He never reached the end of a song and said that's it..." Paul draws breath for some modesty. "My position was a little bit more difficult. I had to shut up."

As well as neat musical twang, 'Superbi contains new melodic kick and - of equal importance with this band - high quality words. The Beautiful South's music has always been tuneful and sweet enough to engage the casual radio listener, but where it really digs deep is lyrically. From the pop barbs of 'Song For Whoever' to the domestic honesty of 'You Keep It All In', from the matter of fact melancholy of 'Ol' Red Eyes Is Back' to the stately delicateness of 'The Prettiest Eyes', the songs of The Beautiful South have always been accompanied by the best lyrics. And 'Superbi' is no exception. Farmers, lovers, Northern towns, DJs and the notion of song itself are all encompassed in these songs.

Possibly most immediate as both a tune and a lyric is the strikingly-named 'Never Lost A Chicken To A Fox'. "I started with title and worked backwards," Paul says. "I don't know where that came from but I built a picture with that, this farmer who'd lost his girlfriend and was living in an area where he was unlikely to get another, ready to whack his brains out with a twin bore. A little bit of sadness." It's a brilliant song and listeners may care to dispute Paul's claim that "it's ruined by the fact the bloke's wearing wellies."

There's also 'The Cat Loves The Mouse', the latest in The Beautiful South's line of sparring duets. Paul Heaton's duets are always combative. There's no 'It Takes Two' or 'Especially For You' here. "This song particularly," Paul says, "I mean, 'A Little Time' was a bitter argument but the people in it were fairly close. In this new song, these people are poles apart." Less tight under the armpits but still uncomfortable is the fairly self-explanatory 'When Romance Is Dead', which might not, actually, be that self-explanatory. "We played this song to people close to the band and most of them agreed it could have been written about one of their relationships. When a lyric hits the nail on the head, it can apply to everyone. I'm like that psychic, I say something that people can relate to like 'I'm thinking of a pet'..."

It's a bit more than that. In fact, Paul Heaton's lyrics are some of the few grown-up words in popular music. Pop says either "I love you" or "Fuck off", but The Beautiful South occupy the larger, more important, and more interesting, middle ground. "So many pop songs are written about 15-20 year olds. We've never really targeted them, or newly weds. We write about people who've lived together most of their lives." And, just to complete the non-McFlyness of it all, there's a song called Manchester. It's about Manchester. And it began as a poem. "A friend of the family asked me to write a poem about Manchester, for the Manchester regeneration thing. I wouldn't normally write a song about a place as such, but I wrote about the rain and how it pisses you off but it's part of the place... a sodden tribute."

We are about to go our separate ways. Paul offers a final thought. "Because I'm quite judgmental about people, it's quite easy to write lyrics. If you see someone walking down the street, you build a little impression of them. And I'm quite bitchy about people and I tend to approach subjects from the left, which makes it quite easy for me to write. If you have no point of view, and you're not bitchy, and you're not political, it must be impossible."

Paul Heaton of The Beautiful South. He's never lost a chicken to a fox.

David Quantick 2006