“But there’s no accounting for taste and sometimes the public taste which leads to the greatest riches is for total pap.” Everyone nods their head in agreement. See what I mean?But though they may not behave like other bands, Semisonic have quietly reached a level of success more vaunted acts could only dream of. Their last album, 1998′s Feeling Strangely Fine went platinum in Britain and did better in the United States, producing hits in the irresistibly soppy “Closing Time” and the, er, irresistibly soppy “Secret Smile”. So their recent tour, supporting that wedding reception soundtrack, Texas, might appear to be something of a cop-out.”It’s been a learning experience,” comments Wilson. “Literally, as we’ve been learning to play our new songs.”So how famous are you? Are you the most anonymous mega-sellers around?”Dan was completely waylaid in Dublin the other day,” says Munson.”We’re more likely to be stopped in London than Minneapolis,” Wilson chips in.Ah, their home, the place that gave the world Prince, Hüsker Dü, Soul Asylum, the ill-fated Replacements, is a city famous for its self-sufficiency, and, inevitably, a town rent with back-biting. Slichter enthusiastically yelps “awesome music scene” when the subject turns to it.

The others demur.”Part of the ethic is to appear like you’re not trying,” Wilson complains “Failure is your greatest reward.”Slichter protests. “The town was deflated when The Replacements [potentially huge Eighties power-pop favourites] blew their moment.”"But if they’d had a huge hit the town would have been angry and resentful. It would have been seen as a betrayal,” Munson counters.In fact, Wilson and Munson made four albums in a now-forgotten combo called Trip Shakespeare, only achieving commercial success with Semisonic as they approached their thirties. The American music business prefers its stars to have done an apprenticeship. Still, with technology’s progression, there may not be a business soon.”I hate the rhetoric, the half-truths, Napster saying ‘Oh, we didn’t intend it to be used to transmit copyrighted material and disseminate it for free.’ That’s exactly what it’s for!” complains Wilson. “On the other side there are the people who are supposed to be predicting the artists.

The record companies put a lot of money into making these albums and they want to be the ones that profit from them.”"Including the artists!” splutters Munson, through a mouthful of food.”Yeah,” concedes Wilson “Both sides are making up these false reasons. It’s like someone saying ‘I’ve got the new Semisonic album to share. I’ll share it with you.’ That’s an awfully loaded term for ‘I’ll sneak you a pirated copy. If people were more truthful I wouldn’t mind so much.” A rock band discussing semantics? Unusual.”Napster is the record companies’ punishment for dragging their feet on internet distribution of music. They talked and talked but everyone knows that the price of CDs is inflated – well, I think so,” says Munson.”How can that be if everyone pays it?” argues Wilson. “Fourteen bucks for an album I’ve listened to hundreds of times is totally worth the price.” See They’re at it again Thankfully, Wilson halts this discussion. “A friend of ours pointed out that music is so bad now that all people talk about is distribution.

That’s a sign of where we’re at.”Strangely, for such a verbose bunch, their greatest successes have come by expressing simple emotions in terms which could have come from a self-help manual, such as the excruciating line “Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end” from “Closing Time” Sometimes they go too far. From the new album, “Bed”, with its clunking “I’ll find someone else to bed” chorus is just too much.Perhaps there is just a whiff of contrivance about three such affable fellows playing the role of rock band to a stupefied audience easily coerced into handclapping and singing along to songs they can’t possibly have heard before. Knowing as they do, that worlds exist beyond the stage door, and that the record company takes five bucks for every one that reaches the artist, don’t they ever find their choice of career at all, well, absurd?Munson’s answer is endearing. “We get to choose our co-workers, we get up at the time we want.. plus you get to play music. At seven or so, I decided I wanted to be a musician and that’s what I get to do.”Wilson is more guarded, and unusually self-reflective for a performer who obviously enjoys being on stage.

“I want to make music people listen to, and give serious attention to. But also part of what I do is to be a clown, adopt silly postures and just rock out.” “Adopt silly postures”? – he may dance on stage in a manner familiar to anyone who remembers the comedians Trevor and Simon exhorting an audience of children to “swing your pants”, but is that the least rock’n'roll expression ever used? He goes on.”Earlier this week I was thinking that there are so many kinds of music I will never get to make even though I love them. I would love to be a jazz musician but I won’t be; it would be vanity to try,” he confesses. “I suddenly felt very isolated, not scared, but ‘Wow, there are a lot of possibilities out there that I’m not going to take part in.’” So success is a prison of sorts then…’All About Chemistry’ is released on Monday (MCA).