Rick Astley: I have a sense of ‘thank Christ’ for that song

The Eighties pop star on the trauma of witnessing his dad’s abuse, blazing a storm at Glastonbury and a run-in with the Prince of Darkness

Best and worst is a regular interview in which a celebrity reflects on the highs and lows of their life
Musician Rick Astley got his big break after Pete Waterman saw him singing at a working men’s club in Warrington and signed him on the spot. His first hit Never Gonna Give You Up went to No 1 around the world. Now, after forty years in the music business, Astley has written a memoir reflecting on his career, exploring his working-class roots, challenging childhood and rise-to-fame, as well as a recent career resurgence which has seen him earn another number one album, play Glastonbury and collaborate with the likes of Dave Grohl. He lives in Surrey with his wife, Lene. 
It was the first Christmas after my parents had broken up and it was the first where they weren’t arguing. Our house was calm and peaceful for once: it hadn’t been like that for quite a while. They divorced when I was five and there had been a lot of shouting up to that point. I was about six and my sister and I made this little Christmas display with cotton wool and little Bambi-like glass figures. I remember it being nighttime, the lights were off, the tree was lit up and there were carol singers: it felt almost Dickensian. It felt like how Christmas should feel.
It’s not from the 1980s, ironically. When I made a record about eight years ago after turning 50. I’ve done lots of nostalgia and even though I’ve sung Never Gonna Give You Up a million times, I don’t ever go “oh this s–t again.” I have a sense of “thank Christ for this song.” But I wanted to see what it felt like to make a new record from scratch. I did it alone – wrote it all, played every instrument and produced it at home. My wife, who is also my manager, said I should play it to some people and it grew into this actual record rather than me just doing something to push myself. The fact it went to No 1 was ridiculous. I went out on stage and people sang new songs back to me. I never thought that would happen again. 
Meeting Ozzy Osbourne in the Eighties when he was in his peak Prince of Darkness era. He was drinking back then and he was at this bar in LA with his wife Sharon. He starts talking to me, asking what I’m up to, if I’m touring. Next, he’s telling me how he’s worked with all the best musicians in the world and how he can put a live band together for me, which was very surreal. I’ve got so much respect for what he’s done, but we’re obviously at opposite ends of the spectrum musically and visually! Next, Sharon clips him round the head and tells him to shut up. She scolded him: “He doesn’t want to be playing with your long-haired, tattooed mates!”
When my daughter Emilie was born. I was quite nervous I think because of my upbringing. My dad had a lot of…moods, a lot of darkness around him and I’ve got a bit of that although I think I deal with it better. But her birth made me feel like I’ve got to be better. It’s that thing of “now my job is to protect this person and put them on the right path and be a proper parent.” I don’t think with all the will in the world my parents did an amazing job of that. It wasn’t for lack of trying or desire – I think they wanted to be – but they weren’t. I think when Emilie arrived, it was like “right, get your s–t together.” Something in me changed; I think you’re kind of forever changed when you become a parent. A light goes on when that baby looks at you.
Glastonbury – getting to play the Pyramid Stage and do a secret set with Blossoms. I’d never played there before; it was pretty nuts to be on a stage that size. I was trying to enjoy it even though I was like “It’s Glastonbury! It’s the biggest gig you’re ever going to do in your life! The world is watching!” My daughter said to me before I went out, “just go and enjoy it. Do it for you.” Obviously, you’re doing it for the audience, but she was absolutely right – it’s gone in a minute and I wanted to savour it. I loved every second. 
It has to be signing that first deal with Pete Waterman even though I didn’t have a clue who Stock Aitken & Waterman were – it sounded like a bunch of solicitors to me. I went down to meet them in London; I knew a couple of things they’d done, not much. But I thought “sod it, I’m just going to sign this thing anyway. I’ll get to make a single in London and I’ll get to be in London for a bit.” It was the best decision I ever made. They soon started having hit after hit – and they wrote their biggest hit for me. 
Walking in the kitchen and seeing my dad with his hands around my mum’s neck. After something like that, things get broken and destroyed in your emotional and mental make-up. It was not Walt Disney; it was not what’s supposed to happen. Shouting and arguing is bad enough, but for me something [broke] that day. Everything about it terrified me and just completely flipped me out. No kid should ever see that. 
We went to the Isle of Man with my dad and I think he was depressed. It was early on after my parents had split up and I think he took us because he felt he had to. You obviously can’t really enjoy yourself in those circumstances. I just remember thinking I never wanted to go on holiday with my dad ever again after that trip. It’s a very rainy, windy place too – it’s a gorgeous place at the right moment – but with bad weather and a depressed dad on holiday, it wasn’t a good combination. 
There was this car, a convertible Jaguar – the nicest and most expensive car I ever owned in my life. On the day I bought it, I drove to Italy and I should’ve stopped in France, stayed the night and slept, but I carried on. On the journey, I put the car in front of a truck. The driver pushed me about 20 metres before he realised I was even there and…the car was destroyed. I’d only picked it up that morning! Because I drive a lot – I don’t love flying – I still remind myself now to not keep driving when you’re tired. 
I think the fact it’s constant: it never seems to take a break. In music, often you’ve got to do something on social media immediately. I’ve got to stop everything. The stress it causes! For young people who’ve grown up with it, it’s maybe a bit more natural – but equally, I do think it could be why a lot of young people seem to be having mental health problems too. Now, you put something on social media, and you live or die by it in the first 30 minutes and that’s quite a daunting thing. It’s led to certain weird things having importance in life that shouldn’t. 
I don’t believe in the system of politics so much anymore: I think it’s broken. I’m from a very working-class area. I’ve had an amazing, privileged life – that’s what you get from being an 80s pop star – and I’m insulated and removed from a lot, but I see it and I think these gaps are getting bigger and politics doesn’t seem to be helping. It seems to be being fuelled by big business and normal people are being left behind. I think politics is a bit scary at the moment. It doesn’t matter if you’re red, blue, green or yellow, if you’re on one side or the other, there’s this thing where there is almost like a hatred for the others. It’s not a balanced “well let’s talk it through, let’s argue if necessary but you know, we’re going to talk this out.” There’s little empathy and a lot of hate which is leading to a lot more violence.
Something that frustrates me is when people don’t leave room on the motorway. We’re all doing 70mph and some clown is just a car’s distance behind another and if anybody breaks at that moment, they’re in the s–t. It’s my absolute pet hate. I can’t believe how Alan Partridge this sounds but I’m 58 and I know I’m an old man!
Never by Rick Astley is out October 10 and his nationwide book tour begins October 9