Legendary rock bassist  Derek Smalls is best known for his time in hard rockers Spinal Tap, having had his tenure with them twice documented in film, first in 1984’s This is Spinal Tap and again in this year’s Spinal Tap II: The Legend Continues. That said, Smalls walked out on his now-former bandmates, Nigel Tufnel and David St Hubbins, in September, and last month announced the release of the first song in his new solo career, “RVM (Rear View Mirror).”

In the new song, the erstwhile tap member declares, “Creative differences are different/ Nobody picks up the phone/ We were almost an actual thing/ Now I sit here alone.” The song is out now from Twanky Records, and were quite excited to hop on Zoom with Derek Smalls to speak on his career, both past and present.

STARBURST: We’re quite surprised that we’re having this conversation via Zoom rather than phone, given your history of internet addiction. Are you doing well with that now?

Derek Smalls: Well, this isn’t my internet. I mean, I’m borrowing someone’s equipment. I don’t have this myself, so yeah, I’m doing well. I’m controlling my impulses, at least in that regard.

“Impulses in that regard” is a good way to put this, given that your new single is very much not holding back, but it seems as though it’s both angry and a bit sad. What was the process of making this song?

Sadness is a big part of anger, isn’t it? I mean, if it didn’t make you sad, you wouldn’t be angry, you know? “Hey, you made me!” – that sort of thing. After the last Tap thing, as should we call it, I just was sitting alone on my bed, sitting in London and thinking, “Well, where does it go now?” and my answer was, “Nowhere.”

And from that, I thought, “Well, I don’t think I’ll be seeing these fellows again,” and then I thought, “Well, where will I see them?” and I realized, “Oh yeah – the rear view mirror, going away,” so that was the inspiration for the song. It was almost – well, I mean, it was literal in the sense that I saw it.

When returning to making music on your own, how do you find your group that is going to perform with you to make this music?

Well, my producer assembled this group originally for my first record, which was called Smalls Change and we’ve worked together ever since. We worked together on a tour, which was truncated by Covid. We did some dates before that closed us down. So it, it’s mates really now. I trust them.

They follow me, which is a good thing because I’ve been the follower for so long, I’d almost forgotten how to lead. It’s a great experience to have again, to be that leader. Going back to Tap for a moment, I always felt like I was the fourth wheeler on a three-legged stool.

We imagine it’s got to be difficult, given that the film came out this year and you’ve described it as “yet another hatchet job,” but there’s a follow up with your final concert coming next year. I am curious as to how you’re dealing with the emotions that come with that, given that it will once again be you on screen with Nigel Tufnel and David St Hubbins?

Who?

Your former bandmates.

Oh, yeah. Well, that concert has already been filmed. It happened in real life last August, and it was freezing in Stonehenge in August, which is why I guess the druids died out–because the weather in August was so wretched.

But it was like a part of a long goodbye. I was at one side of the stage and they were the other, and you know, they’d always regarded me as sort of a–David and Nigel were childhood chums. It was hard to break–well, it was impossible to break into that.

I was never a chum of theirs in childhood. Didn’t know them in childhood. I had a totally different childhood, so it was always like, “Hello, who’s in there?” and this was just the last bit of it. And it was freezing. Did I mention that?

You did. The press release for this single teases that there are more tracks to be announced. Have you recorded those?

Oh yeah. Oh yeah. We’ve recorded 12 tracks and they’re coming out the way the kids do these days, digital singles and all that. The next one, I don’t know exactly what order they’re coming in, but we’ve already one of the songs has been banned by the BBC, which I’m very proud of.

Why has it been banned by the BBC?

It’s called “Balls.”

Oh, well that’s fair.

I guess they just don’t like tennis. That’s a shame. Well, it’s tragic, really. I mean, it’s a great game.

And we assume it’s also a great track. How does tennis factor into your music making?

No, I’m just saying balls.

What do they think that’s about?

Oh, it’s balls generally. It’s a song about everything it takes balls to do.

We have to imagine that it does take balls to walk away from once again from a band you’ve been a part of for four decades plus.

Yeah, well, on and off. I mean I did leave the band at one point to join a Christian rock band for a while. Lambsblood, which was a great Christian rock band, but it was a Christian rock band. Had to get a a fish tattoo to be part of it, you know? And then when I went back to Tap, they went, “What’s that, then?” so I got a another tattoo of the devil eating the fish. But aside from that, yeah, it’s been a long time.

As you worked on these tracks, were you also working out some existential angst, as one might say?

I dunno what that is.

Were you working out some inner demons?

I cultivate my inner demons. Not as a worshiper, but as a partisan of Satan. I make best friends with my internal demons. Sometimes, they’re all I have. Friends come and go. Demons are forever.

Are there any particular demons within yourself to whom you can point as being particularly helpful?

Well, when I wake up in the middle of the night and I hear this voice whispering lyrics and I think, “That’s my that’s my rhyming demon.”

Is there a demon that helps you with your instrumentation?

No, it’s that’s waking stuff. We’re all, at least most of us, for awake for that. It’s the band. We all choose what we’re gonna do and then come together and go, “You’re not doing that, are you?” and that sort of thing.

You mentioned the fact that your last tour was cut short by Covid. Is there any possibility of a tour on this new music?

Well, that’s a great question. It really depends. I’d be fine if the music gets out there and people enjoy it in digital form or, if they really enjoy it, we could even come out with a vinyl, so forth. If there’s a demand, if I really feel like people are saying, “Derek, Derek, we wanna see Derek,” then I might browse myself to do that. Otherwise, you know I’m happy to, sit at home and watch telly.

Given your reaction to your onscreen appearances over the years, is there any chance of music videos for any of this music?

Oh, yeah, but they won’t be directed by Mr DiBergi. Hopefully he is gone back to doing dog food adverts. It’ll be somebody who isn’t trying to make a point about, “Oh, look what a fuck with Derek is,” you know. Won’t be that.

Do you have anybody with whom you’d really like to work?

Well, myself.

Directing your own videos?

I might do a bit of that. I did direct the title video for the last record, Smalls Change, so I’ve had a bit of experience doing that. I’d like to get my hands dirty again, and then of course, washroom at the end.

Derek Smalls’ new single R.V.M (Rear View Mirror) is out now.