Understanding Portishead
By Jaan
Uhelszki
Geoff Barrow, the 007 of Retro Rock, awaits the end of the world
You'd have to look far and wide before you came across a more
reclusive rock star than Geoff Barrows of Portishead. Probably
all the way across the Atlantic, to a small sleepy town five miles
down the Bristol Channel on England's craggy West Coast.
There's not much to recommend in Portishead, which stands on
the spot of a 17th century village. It's got drab weather, shipping
docks, and not much else except its proximity to Bristol, "the
gateway for the Empire." For some, it's the mouth of hell. Where
nothing ever changes, and people go, according to an expatriate,
"just to die."
This is a city that time seems to have left behind, where people
are cordial, down-to-earth, and a little shy. Just like Geoff.
He and his mother moved here when he was thirteen, after his parents
divorced. Mom never left. But Geoff moved fifteen miles to Bristol
and picked up some work in "a dodgy rock band" playing drums on
the weekends.
He got his first real job at sixteen as a tape operator at Coach
House Studios where Portishead now record. This is the place where
he was first asked to write some demos for Neneh Cherry's Homebrew
album, and where he remixed singles by Depeche Mode, Primal
Scream, Paul Weller, and Gabrielle.
Although Portishead, the band, is on the brink of international
success, and could have their choice of any state of the art facility,
Barrow remains here, at the place that gave him his first break.
But it's not clear whether that has more to do with his hatred
of change than any sense of loyalty.
Barrow is a man of deep convictions, and honest but complex
feelings. He is harsh and uncompromising about his own performance;
driven by an inner fire that demands perfection to quench its
fires. But just as Barrows demands so much from himself, he is
surprisingly gentle and solicitous with others. During my transatlantic
interview with him last week, he was reluctant to talk about himself,
but was concerned whether I had enough information to stitch together
a story, and patiently explained some of the intricacies of how
he makes Portishead records. Like sampling from recordings he
makes of his own songs.
He is self-effacing to the point of pain, and doesn't seem to
know his worth in the marketplace; something that is unusual,
yet so refreshing in a musician. He is happiest locked in a sound
studio mixing up his strange aural cocktails. Pure brisk shots
of jazz, symphonic snippets, soul riffs, and liberal doses of
silence. Shaken not stirred, just like the James Bond soundtracks
he samples from.
Geoff at twenty-three isn't much different from Geoff at thirteen,
only now he scratches and DJs in a studio instead of the back
bedroom where he used to play weird bits of this and that, creating
his own sonic Frankensteins, and causing his neighbors to raise
their eyebrows askance, wondering what that quiet young gent was
up to.
Geoff Barrow is still a quiet gent, and what he was up to is
now apparent for all the world to hear. By all accounts they like
what they hear. Dummy, Portishead's debut album, was named
Melody Maker's 1994 Album of the Year, and their second
single, "Glory Box," entered the English charts at number thirteen.
In America, the haunting, plaintive "Sour Times (Nobody Loves
Me)" is now an MTV Buzz Clip, and is hypnotizing fans with its
strange hybrid of hip hop breaks and spy movie samples that cut
in and out beneath the unsteady, shifting sand of vocalist Beth
Gibbon's haunting, suicidal refrain.
Portishead is disturbing, yet strangely compelling. Odd meowing,
scratches, and bits of songs dropped into other songs create an
unsettling landscape that you're almost afraid to enter. A moonscape,
really. But as eerie and funereal as the songs are, they catch
you unaware and lodge in your subconscious, forcing you to confront
your own haunted houses. Just when you think that you can't take
any more they show you the trap door. And you're back again among
the living, with only a slight chill to remind you where you've
been.
Barrow lives and breathes sound, constantly deconstructing songs
he hears on the radio, on the television, even in elevators. Everything
he hears is an inspiration, and he is continually on a quest to
entrap the most innovative, evocative noises and paste them into
his aural mosaics. He's a man who likes control, and feels most
at home in a studio or in his flat which he shares with his girlfriend
and their cat. Somehow I don't think it's a place with cheery
hooked rugs and a bent wood rocking chair. As affable a man as
he is, I suspect he also lives with demons.
He has no desire to see the world, doesn't like playing live,
isn't eager to tour, and is content to remain in "the left-hand
corner of Britain," picking his way through vintage American hip-hop
and soundtracks to old espionage movies until he can find that
elusive, perfect configuration of sounds and silences.
Addicted To Noise: I think Portishead's music is evocative
of Britain before the Beatles. Dirk Bogarde, Audrey Hepburn, French
twists, Look Back in Anger, James Bond... Do you have a
particular period of history that you especially relate to that
all this music comes from? Do you think in terms of 1962 and wear
black turtle necks and chain smoke cigarettes when you write songs?
Geoff Barrow: Oh, no. What it comes down to isand
I know this is going to sound weirdthat we don't particularly
know anything about anything. I don't know anything. I'm not into
literature or even films in a big way, or other people's music
in a big way. It's just something that's come out from the little
parts that we like. None of us are professors of anything. Or
we're not buffs of anything. We obviously like music and movies
but we're not particularly into fashion and that kind of thing.
Then I guess we just have to say that you live
in a parallel universe where it's still 1962.
[Laughs] No. I just think it sounds like it does
because a lot of thought has gone into the album. It's like half
a natural thing. The music we make is the music we make. That's
what comes out. But in sense, the other half is the production.
I think production is something that's been forgotten about. There's
been a standard in production for so long. And I've found it so,
so, so, boring.
What do you mean, a standard?
Well there's this, "I'll get a standard drum
sound on that," or, "Let's get this keyboard, it sounds like a
Hammond organ," or, "it sounds like a real piano," or, "I'll take
a bit of this." Technology has done that, it's made people lazy.
And the idea behind production is, as long it sounds clean, it
sounds nice. That's the producer's job done. As for the engineer,
as long as it comes up clean, and as long as the songwriter comes
up with a good enough melody, and the singer is relatively in
tune... and if not they can always pitch him. To me that's terrible,
that's why some of the stuff sounds rough as well. To me, if a
song works, it's got a vibe about it. That's one of the main things
that's been lost in music today. The vibe. It creates the emotion
in music. I think Nirvana were excellent in creating music that
had a vibe. A hell of a lot of rap artists have vibes.
So, you know it's a good song when it moves
you?
Yeah, when I get goose pimples, I know it's good.
If you can rate that kind of thing, you know you're onto a good
thing . You don't know whether it's just going to give you goose
pimples, or whether it will give anyone else goose pimples. But
you hope that it does. That's what I go for. That's why I hate
bland music.
When was the first time you got chills over
your own music? When did you know that you had it. There must
have been one moment you knew.
There are little parts on the album that I knew.
"Biscuit." I put "Biscuit" on the album because I tried to make
some that's a mess, but tuneful, but emotional as well. But then
I get off on things like scratches.
I can tell.
It seems to me people like DJ. Premier from Gangstar
is the kind of bloke that's ridiculously good at scratching, but
emotionally creating a vibe. He creates a certain air within a
track. And space is also important. You're just waiting for the
next thing to come in and that's suspenseful. I think also people
pass too much stuff onto their tracks.
I find Portishead anti-video. You know, how
video killed the radio star, because video no longer allowed you
to create your own pictures in your mind to go along with the
music. They provided you with one vision. Well, your songs don't
need videos. They provide a soundtrack to your own personal movie.
In fact they seem to spawn a movie on every hearing.
Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. That's why
I wish we didn't have to do them.
I know this is an odd thing to say, but I agree
with you.
Well don't watch it. When you see the "Glory
Box" video, don't watch it. Chuck it away. Record the music from
it and just chuck it away. Hopefully. I want to recut the video
before it goes to the States. I'm doing a rock mix, at the moment,
for the States.
I understand you and Beth Gibbons are reluctant
stars. She won't do interviews and you don't want your picture
taken.
No, I can't stand it. It's not what I'm particularly
into. I know I'm in the business, and they say I have to. But
I don't know. We wanted to be the first band that's not based
on image. Just based on music. It'd be nice for a change.
And you and Beth both seem to be in that same
place.
Yeah. All we enjoy is just making music. I don't
enjoy the press side of it. Obviously it's nice to talk to people
who appreciate your music but it's that thing, we love to be in
the studio. It's weird, this is something I never thought about.
You've had a lot of trouble with the media.
Before we started this interview, you told me that just today
a local paper in Bristol ran a misleading...
I hate it. I've just had murder from like local
press today. It' s mad.
What did they say?
Usually I don't deal with local press because
all they are interested in is where I'm from. It's very small
minded. All they ever write is "local boy done good. He's from
Portishead, he's putting us on the map." So I refuse to do all
these interviews. So today in Bristol's biggest newspaper they
ended up saying, "Why do all these pop stars end up being prima
donnas?" [Barrow is agitated, speaking faster and faster as he
recounts story.] They wrote this page on us being totally prima
donnas. It's so ridiculous. I called him up and called him every
fucking name under the sun.
Some of the ones I have given interviews for totally disregard
what I've said and just write what they want. They make it up.
This is big newspapers. For instance, they said we were at the
Brits [Awards] and were really disappointed that we didn't win.
And we didn't even go. We weren't even disappointed. I mean, Brits?
It's really poo poo, isn't it?
Were you ever concerned that you were taking
a commercial risk making music so disconnected from what's in
the charts? And did you imagine the album would be such a huge
commercial success?
No. We wanted to do something hopefully that
was going to last a long time. Because music today it
doesn't seem to have a long life span. And it has to do with something
sonically with old records, that I'm really interested in. When
it sounds old people always think that it's good. And it's just
an idea that we thought I'm
really into old sound anyway a lot more than digital modern sound but
if we get something that sounds really old and it gives it that
warmth, it kind of like triggers off sound thoughts in people's
heads without them even knowing about it. Do you know what I mean?
Yeah, I've listened the album. I've seen whole
movies in my head when I've listened to your songs.
We're really into making songs. Songs .
That's the most important thing is the songs. I think that's what's
lacking in a lot modern music. Not rock music or the kind of stuff
that's based on songs, but the dance music. Like house music and
stuff like that. They got rid of the songs.
You mean the beat takes precedent?
Yeah, but don't get me wrong. I think dance music
is great, if you want to go out and dance to it. That's fair enough.
But what was happening there wasn't any kind of dance music that
was particularly going into people's stereos at home. That people
were remembering. Except of course for Soul to Soul, and undoubtedly
Massive Attack. But that whole thing, of things that are going
to last longer, there wasn't any. But we were wanted our stuff
to last longer. That's we really are into and what we think about.
You never thought you'd make it big?
To me, us being huge is really worrying.
How so?
Well, if you think about it, we've had a lot
of press, the album done really well. We're just about to start
a second album. And really it's kind of like, I don't know. I
find it really daunting, the entire thing. That's why I try to
keep out of it. That's why I try to keep out of saying too much.
Or having my picture taken. I don't want to be part of that whole
nonsense industry thing. I truly believe that if you have a good
enough record, or hopefully what you think is good, and other
people think is good. The amount of actual promotional work shall
be very, very, small. When we signed to go, we wanted to break
all those old models. Why do we have to do that, is there another
way that we can do it, without doing that. The best part about
our record company is if we can come up with a better idea, they'll
let us do it. They won't just say, that's the standard way, you
have to do it.
Have you always been involved in sound? I mean
did you start scratching records in your bedroom as a teenager?
Yeah. It was in the mid-eighties when I became
a teenager, and got into early America hip-hop or dance. We call
it electo over here. Also I played the drums. On Sundays I used
to play in a really dodgy rock band, and during the week, I DJ'd.
Then I stopped drumming and started DJ-ing, mainly in my bedroom.
Just kind of mucking around, and then I ended up about when I
was eighteen getting a job in a studio in Bristol. And I started
getting into using the sampler. And since then, five years now,
I've been just working on ideas. It was only about two years ago
that I realized what I exactly I wanted to do.
When you first saw Beth did you think she was
missing part of your future? Was there a sense of destiny? What
was your first impression of her?
No, not particularly. I thought she had a major
voice, but I just didn't think we'd do anything together. At that
point her voice was so way out for what we wanted. From what we
were doing. And her voice sounded a little bit different from
where she is now. We've kind of, like, changed together. Since
we've been working together, we've changed so we've adapted to
each other.
Was your music anything like this before? Has
this been a real evolution to get this smoky nightclub sound you
have?
It was always trying to be hip-hop based. Slow,
heavy. Using kind of odd sounds.
Back to Beth: and you two hit it off immediately?
Yeah. But there's four members of Portishead
really, not just Beth and me. There's Dave McDonald and Adrian
Utley. Adrian is an excellent jazz player. He also plays bass,
and we work on musical ideas together. In fact he's a more musical
person than I am. So when it comes down to old samples like what
I need to create something, we work on together. I get him to
play something and then we work on it. He's also a good producer.
Plus he's older, and he knows more songs to
sample from.
Exactly. He always wanted to play odd kind of
spy music, and that kind of tremolo guitar. But because he was
a jazz player nobody was particularly interested. So when we clicked,
it was excellent. Because that's what I was looking for.
So it wasn't you who had this consciousness
of wanting to recreate an old James Bond movie kind of atmosphere?
Did that come more from Adrian?
It was weird. Because within hip-hop it really
began to change into sampling soundtracks. There was some really
good breaks and beats coming out of soundtracks. And they started
using them in the States. And because you're always looking for
samples, when you run out of soul records to look through for
breaks, you start looking at rock records, looking at film tracks,
sound tracks, looking all around. And I'd sampled soundtracks
before and gotten some weird sounds from them. And Adrian came
around, and he'd always been into that, always been into the Ipcress
File and stuff like that, and he got me into that side of
things.
Do you ever go see the movie after you sample
the soundtrack?
No, In most cases I haven't seen the movies.
You work like a hip-hop producer?
Sort of. Basically within hip-hop the way it
works, if you have an old record, say from James Brown, and there's
what we call a break, which is like an intro only of like the
beats and the bass line just on its own. And that is sampled,
and the beat is put into a sampler, chopped into little parts,
and arranged so the guy likes it or whatever, and then music is
put on top of a rap. But the way we do it now is we don't exactly
sample from records. We stopped doing that now.
What do you sample from?
What we started to do, and did on seventy percent
of the last album, was we actually played ourselves, and then
put it on vinyl, and sampled it back again.
So you sampled from yourselves and cut out the
middleman. Did you cover a song?
No we actually wrote the songs ourselves.
That was derivative of a time or style you liked?
Yes, exactly, "in the style of..."
Why did you go to all this trouble?
What happened was, within hip-hop, if you sample
a beat, that records out there, so what happens is a week after,
someone else might use it, and that takes away your fresh sound.
So we prefer doing it our way, because then you end up with an
original sound, and if someone ends up with the same sound as
you, you know they've taken it from you. We still used a couple
of samples on the album like Isaac Hayes.
So pretty soon you'll be your own cottage industry.
You're always loo ...
Yeah, that would be nice.
Would you say Portishead has a distinctly British
sound?
It takes sound from everywhere. It has more of
an American influence than anything else.
If you were going to deconstruct your sound,
what part is American?
I don't know. It's difficult to say. But I'm
into hip-hop mainly, into American hip-hop. Like A Tribe Called
Quest. And then you got the real serious soul guys like Isaac
Hayes, and then you've got the great jazz guys that really influence
Adrian. And then you've got someone like Lalo Schifrin, who's
a film score writer from the '60s and then on the European side
you have bands like Can, and Gong, and orchestral, strange spy
film kind of a sound.
Will you continue that old spy movie sound on
your next album?
No, not really.
Do you have a different mood, or theme for your
next project?
No, not really. We most likely will. But the
way I see it, I'm not going to go out looking for the new Portishead.
I think that's the wrong thing to do. We've only just started
our career. I don't think we really have to make a big change
like that. When you have a rock band, and they play guitar, and
they have a guitar sound, that is their sound. When their second
album comes, it's the same sound, you know what I mean? We want
to do the same thing, but for some reason, because we use samples,
people expect something a lot more progressive than the first
album.
So you think people expect you to change personas
from album to album.
I think they do, but that's wrong. Obviously
there's going to be a natural progression, but I'm not going to
go looking to find something that has to be on the other side
of the world.
Hopefully you'll get to evolve at your own pace.
That's hard. I saw this thing on TV. Bands get
very little chance to evolve nowadays because there's so many
other bands out.
Especially in England, bands are always battling
for their place, or to keep their slot. It's always a case of
the Next Big Thing.
As long as we can become established so we can
keep releasing albums, that's all I ever wanted to do.
To have a long career?
Yeah, to just keep on doing it.
Was there ever anything else that you wanted
to do?
No! There's nothing else I could have done. I
was pretty useless at school. I wanted to be a graphic designer
except I'm color blind. Then I couldn't have done an office job,
because when it comes down to it, I'm absolutely useless when
it comes to dealing with either reading or writing.
Maybe you should consider that a plus, and most
of your genius is channeled into your music.
Don't use that word.
I think you sell yourself short. I had you pegged
as an intellectual.
Seeing as I haven't read a book since I was eight,
I don't think so.
People get their information in different ways.
You probably get yours aurally; it comes to you through your the
medium of sound.
Well thanks, but I don't think so. The only thing
I do extremely well is I analyze music a lot. I hear the way they
recorded it when I listen.
Do you ever just listen to music without analyzing
it?
Not particularly. Maybe just some rap tunes,
but very rarely. When it comes down to sound I rate people like
Lenny Kravitz highly. A lot of people slay him, but I don't. I
think he's an incredibly talented producer.
Will you continue that old spy movie sound on
your next album?
No, not really.
Do you have a different mood, or theme for your
next project?
No, not really. We most likely will. But the
way I see it, I'm not going to go out looking for the new Portishead.
I think that's the wrong thing to do. We've only just started
our career. I don't think we really have to make a big change
like that. When you have a rock band, and they play guitar, and
they have a guitar sound, that is their sound. When their second
album comes, it's the same sound, you know what I mean? We want
to do the same thing, but for some reason, because we use samples,
people expect something a lot more progressive than the first
album.
So you think people expect you to change personas
from album to album.
I think they do, but that's wrong. Obviously
there's going to be a natural progression, but I'm not going to
go looking to find something that has to be on the other side
of the world.
Hopefully you'll get to evolve at your own pace.
That's hard. I saw this thing on TV. Bands get
very little chance to evolve nowadays because there's so many
other bands out.
Especially in England, bands are always battling
for their place, or to keep their slot. It's always a case of
the Next Big Thing.
As long as we can become established so we can
keep releasing albums, that's all I ever wanted to do.
To have a long career?
Yeah, to just keep on doing it.
Was there ever anything else that you wanted
to do?
No! There's nothing else I could have done. I
was pretty useless at school. I wanted to be a graphic designer
except I'm color blind. Then I couldn't have done an office job,
because when it comes down to it, I'm absolutely useless when
it comes to dealing with either reading or writing.
Maybe you should consider that a plus, and most
of your genius is channeled into your music.
Don't use that word.
I think you sell yourself short. I had you pegged
as an intellectual.
Seeing as I haven't read a book since I was eight,
I don't think so.
People get their information in different ways.
You probably get yours aurally; it comes to you through your the
medium of sound.
Well thanks, but I don't think so. The only thing
I do extremely well is I analyze music a lot. I hear the way they
recorded it when I listen.
Do you ever just listen to music without analyzing
it?
Not particularly. Maybe just some rap tunes,
but very rarely. When it comes down to sound I rate people like
Lenny Kravitz highly. A lot of people slay him, but I don't. I
think he's an incredibly talented producer.
Did you know he says he got his first influences
from Kiss?
Kiss? You're joking. That's mad. The thing is
people really have a go at him for being a rip-off merchant. But
there's millions of bands doing that; he's the actual clever one
who can actually make it sound like the original. The thing of
it is, he's the only one who has a sound that hasn't been reproduced
in twenty-five years.
So in his own way, he's captured the sound of
a certain era of time, and I think Portishead has done the same
thing.
What we like to do is come up with something
more original than just that. There are so many people doing retro
stuff. But because they don't get the sound right, nobody thinks
they're ripping anything off.
What do you think about Oasis, who actually
admit that they put on Beatle songs and write over the top of
them.
They're the exception to the rule. I rate [praise]
them. I can't help but rate them. Because the thing of it is,
they just know where they're going, and they just know what they're
doing. I think they're out to conquer the world any which way
they can. They'll blatantly say they rip people off, they've slayed
a lot of older musicians in the world who are well-respected musicians.
And I think it's about time that they did get a slaying. Some
of them have had it too easy for too long. I think they are the
kind of band could be around for many years. They'll only get
better.
I find your music more challenging to listen
to than Oasis. I like both bands, but I keep finding new things
I haven't heard on your album.
Yeah, we've put some trapdoors in our music.
More like mazes and monsters.
Well, I'm glad you're saying that.
Have you ever wanted to write lyrics?
No. I don't get involved with Beth's lyrics.
Is she really that depressed?
Naw, absolutely not. Basically what happens is
I give her a backing track and she writes what she gets off the
backing track. And I don't particularly write a happy backing
track, so that's the way it turns out. If I were to write a happy,
happy backing track it might be slightly different.
Is Beth a particularly serious personality?
I don't think we're all particularly happy, surely.
But what is there particularly to be happy about at the moment.
Especially in our country with the state of our government, the
way it's actually working. It's just one big joke. The English
people have actually given up. And every month something else
is taken away from them. And every couple of months their actual
rights and freedoms are taken from them. And nobody is even putting
up a fight.
Can you pin your hopes on a Labour government
next time?
It would be better than the Conservatives, but
then again, you just don't know what happens when they get into
power, they might act the same way, because there's that much
money, they're under that much pressure, they' re doing this and
doing that and getting away with it.
What about all these anti-monarchists?
That's because the gap between rich and poor
is getting bigger and bigger.
So it's not about Charles and Camilla, then?
No, nobody gives a toss whether he's shagging
somebody. Fair play to him if he does, he's only human. It's like
this whole thing, there's not poverty like there is in America,
but it's getting pretty bad. And though it's not unusual for us,
but it's getting quite dangerous. England owned a third of world.
The Great British Empire. Thank God that's over.
You mean people didn't lament the end of the
Empire?
No, it's good. Thank God. In all honesty we enslaved
people, we shot people, we destroyed whole races of people.
To change the subject, would you rather stay
in the studio or are you comfortable doing live shows?
I like to stay in the studio, but live is another
side to it, that I do. But I hate traveling, I can't stand traveling.
But when it comes down to just meeting people from somewhere else
that are into your tunes, that is the one absolute bonus of playing
live.
Your hatred of travel, is it due to just not
being able to control your surroundings, or do you hate planes?
I just hate leaving everything. Leaving my girlfriend,
my flat, my cat; security basically, and actually being somewhere
I don't want to be. I'm not interested in seeing the rest of the
world, to be quite honest. I really don't want to see the rest
of the world. I'm really quite happy where I am.
Have you toured at all? Around Europe and the
UK?
No we haven't. We haven't really played anywhere.
We don't particularly like playing live, because we have to try
so much harder to create the same kind of atmosphere. And sometimes
very, very rarely, we fail. And I don't like that. The thing is
I like everything controllable. Everything that we put out is
controlled. And when you're playing live there isn't that feeling.
It's totally uncontrollable. You have about fifteen per cent of
control, and fate is guiding the way.
Maybe your record company will understand that
you don't want to take the show on the road.
It's the whole thing about the music industry
and promotion. It does my absolute head in. Why does it have to
be like that, who set it up? I understand that people don't know
us over in America, and you've got to sort it out. But there must
be a better way.
What was the first record you ever bought?
I don't know what the first record I ever bought
was, but the first record I ever heard was called "The Laughing
Policeman." It's a bad English comedy record, and all it is is
this tune with this bloke laughing. It's horrendous. It's from
the 1930s, I think. But it was the first record I ever remember
noticing. I didn't really notice music until I heard that on the
radio once. No lyrics, no words.
I think this could be very revealing. I think
you're a little more twisted than I thought.
No, not really.
Is there someone you were in another lifetime?
Don't know, someone pretty boring.
Stop picking on yourself. I'll rephrase it.
Is there any particular period of history that you would have
liked to witness?
I sometimes think it would have really, really
nice to have gone back there.
Where? When?
[He ignores me, and continues on.] Should I tell
you why?
I'm on pins and needles.
You would go back with the knowledge you have
now.
You mean like The Connecticut Yankee In
King Arthur's Court . Kind of like getting into the way-back
machine?
I like the idea that if I went back to King Arthur,
that I would know the world wouldn't destruct. Living now, I don't
know whether the world is going to blow up in front of my eyes.
You're saying that if you went back, you'd know
that their wouldn't be a global catastrophe.
I know that I'll be dead, but I know in history
I would have lived and basically even if I would have lived a
really, really long time in King Arthur's days, I'm not going
to see the world blow up, because it never happened. Because I
know from history that it never happened. But we don't know now
whether it will.
I know that I'm older than you are. When I was
growing up we had drills for the event of bombs, but with the
end of the cold war I didn't think that people were afraid of
the bomb now. Did you have bomb drills when you were at school?
We didn't have the drills. We had a program at
school after this program called Threats, about the bomb going
off. We did think that it could go off. Especially about the time
that the Russians shot down that Chinese aircraft, and that was
recently the closest we have been. The thing is that has played
a large part in shaping who I am. The nuclear thing. I think it's
not so much now. But the '80s was the last time it really did
come on strong. And that still stays with me now. I believe...
well I think if we all make it past the year 2000 we'll all be
all right.
You know I have a theory. When the fear of the
bomb was most strong was the early '60s, just about the time that
the music you were sampling from...
That's weird. I personally believe that we're
going to have some real problems before the year 2000.
I hope you're totally wrong.
So do I.
Do you consider yourself very religious in the
face of this.
No, not at all. Desperate more than anything.
But I wouldn't turn to religion to alleviate it.
But you turn to music.
Yeah. I personally think there will be some strange
things that will be happening. I really do believe that. It'll
be more like hysteria. Obviously we hope it doesn't happen. But
I think there will be some very, very odd things from people.
You don't think the threat will come from Russia
do you?
The thing is, it actually won't. I think there's
a lot of things going on and the maddest thing is at the moment,
personally to me, is the worry of China. In 1997 when Hong Kong
is handed back to the Chinese, I hope they see there's enough
money in there not to do anything silly. And I hope they don't
try to take back some of the land Russia has of theirs.
Is there any misconception about your band you'd
like to clear up?
We just want to make music. We're not out to
slag anyone off, or confront anyone or do anything that would
be bad.
You're not into any of the rivalry?
Just take us for the music. If you take myself
and Beth, and put us together, or me, Beth Adrian and Dave together
and then you listen to the album, and you look at us, you'd think,
"No, it ain't them." Because it's a sound thing, it's not about
how we look, or what we do. It's just the music.
Is there a motto you have? Something that helps
you cope.
I say to myself, "Just calm down." I used to
count, it's weird, I don't do it so much now, but I used to count
to ten twice, count to twenty twice, count back from ten to zero
twice, then count from twenty to zero twice. Then that used to
calm me down. I'd do it to knock out things from my head. I try
and calm down, I am obsessive, and have suffered from panic attacks,
and nervousness.
Exercise helps, too. When in doubt there's always
endorphins.
I'm going to do some exercise, especially when
I'm on tour.
An actor who would play you in your life story?
Pee Wee Herman with long hair. Brad Pitt because
everyone would think I was good looking then.
You are good looking. Somehow I don't think
you take compliments very well.
I don't take them very well at all, I don't know
what to do with them.
Maybe that's a good thing, especially if your
band is poised to be really huge. Humility is refreshing. Right
now your art does speak for you and I hope it continues to. So
don't change, babe.
One thing I will say; I won't change. I analyze
everything. Not just music, people's views. And I analyze my own
personality, but everyone does, don't they? But thing is I know
what I hate to be, and I'll never be it. And I can see it and
it's not me, and it never will be me. And people have said that
to me in the past. And if we do get really successful right, I
mean I would just hate that.
I have the feeling you're fueled as much by
what you don't want to be as you are by what you want to be.
Definitely. We're lucky we can see what we don't
want to be. That's the way I look on music, and the way Beth looks
on music, as long as we're happy... I know for a fact, I know
really, if Beth isn't happy with what's going on in the music
industry, she'll quit. Stop. She'd stop tomorrow. I just know
that. I haven't got to be running around making her happy, because
it won't be one of those things that'll make her unhappy. It'll
be a personal feeling. Because she's real level-headed. It'll
be one of those things that she'll turn around and say, "look
I'm not enjoying this." And if I said, "Can I sort this out,"
and she says, "No, I'm going to give up." There's nothing I can
do.
Does that make you nervous?
Not really, because I know it would be something
serious. I mean, we do talk a lot so the thing is I probably would
sort it out. But if she really, really did stop enjoying it I'd
let her go.
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