Music > Interviews

Interview with Johnny Marr

04/03/13

“We’ve got 15 minutes on the phone with Johnny.” Those were the words that changed everything; this was arguably the biggest interview Outline had ever done. I was trying to argue that point to my mother-in-law, and I put forward two things: one, the number of bands I’ve interviewed over the years that have referenced Johnny as their biggest guitar influence; and two, how much popular culture has adopted from the five active years of The Smiths – Panic! at the Disco owe their name, as do Shakespeare’s Sister; Coupland’s book, ‘Girlfriend in a Coma’ and Spitz’s ‘How Soon Is Never?’ and more owe their titles to Smiths-penned songs. The more cynical would say they were Morrissey’s words to borrow, but Marr wrote the music that was the vehicle to get those songs out there. I listened to ‘How Soon is Now’, an instrumental version, in prep for my interview with Johnny about his new solo album, ‘The Messenger’ and it was remarkable. It was just as expressive, emotional and resonant as the words would ever have you remember. So, just 15 minutes to ask the man about all that…

I’m aware that you’ve probably got loads of these interviews today, so I’m gonna apologise for possibly repeating something you’ve been asked all day.Oh, it’s alright; I haven’t spoken to anyone yet today, so you got in under the wire.

Really? That’s great. It’s a big honour to talk to you today Johnny.Aw, that’s OK.

At the moment I’m sat pressed against my radiator at home, ‘cause my heating’s shit. What’s your environment like right now?Yeah, I know that one, I know that one. Erm, I’m in a really big, huge old room at the top of an old church in Salford, outside of Manchester rehearsing for the tour. I’ll be in Norwich really very soon.

I know, not long at all –- Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. I was there a couple of years ago, 2010 maybe and it was a fun time. There’s a good record shop in Norwich too, isn’t there?

Yeah, there are some brilliant ones actually – the demise of HMV worries us not.That’s true, yeah. Actually, it was the university that I played when I went there last time but I went record shopping and I visited all the places. There’s not too many towns in the UK that can boast that many record shops, so well done.

Yeah, my Dad came to visit me here once and we literally did a record shop crawl.Record shop crawl! [LAUGHS] I can believe it, yes, well that’s good news.

Now Johnny, there’s so much I could ask you obviously, but I’m gonna focus on ‘The Messenger’ because I’m one of the lucky buggers who’s been able to listen to it. It comes out a week on Monday, doesn’t it?Yeah, it seems like a long time coming; the first single came out in December, and that was the title track and I’m getting a lot of love for it. It’s exciting; people seem to like it, which is always nice! [LAUGHS]

I think it’s fair to say you’ve released a fair few records, Johnny – do you still get the same kind of excitement, or apprehension before a release?You always do, yeah. I think in the case of, say, Modest Mouse, or The The or The Cribs or something, or The Smiths, there’s a shared responsibility and right now, a lot seems to be focused on me, because it’s my record. It’s a little bit different in that regard, it’s a little more intense, but as I say, it’s fun because people seemingly liking it. I think you’re in trouble if you become blasé about the release, although my favourite bit is always the bit when it’s finished, in between when it’s finished and when it’s released. It feels like you’ve got a kinda cool secret that’s about to be disclosed. Once a record is out in the outside world, it seems to me, to belong to the culture, and certainly the fans and everybody has their own experience with it; people are listening to it on a Saturday morning, other people are listening to it on their way to college, some people are listening to it on their way back from school, all of these things and I really like that about pop music and pop culture anyway. You experience it in your own different ways and I think because of that it stops feeling like your own personal property and my mind starts to move on to other things, so once it’s released, it becomes a different thing for me then.

With you talking about it then, it sounds a bit like your losing your virginity; it’s yours and only to give for a while, but once it’s gone… it’s public property. [LAUGHS]I never thought of it like that; I never thought of either thing like that but I’ll… I’ll meditate on that [LAUGHS]!

It’ll be good if you do, yeah! Now, I read an interview with you on the subject of making this album, and you said that if you hadn’t made it now, you would never have done it. What kind of intersection were you at to be thinking that?Erm, well I probably would have found another project – I don’t like using the word project, but… OK, I’ll use the word project - to be getting along with but I wrote nearly 30 songs for ‘The Messenger’ and that’s something that doesn’t happen every day. You have to be really enthusiastic about it to roll your sleeves up and do that amount of work, because it’s quite time consuming. Then when I decided I wasn’t gonna go back out with The Cribs, I think that was when I got the notion that I might not always be wanting to actually lock myself away and write 30 songs, because it is a LOT!  But I either stopped or got bored at about 27 and I realised that was quite enough, thank you very much. By then, I pretty much had the record in my mind anyway. I didn’t mean that I was gonna retire, or anything – I doubt that’s ever gonna happen. I kind of relate to painters, or sculptors, or people in the visual arts in that regard; whenever I’ve been asked about when I’m going to finish, my mind just turns to people like David Hockney and Lucien Freud and Robert Rauschenberg, who are still painting, and I’m of the same mindset really. If it’s something that you’re good at and it’s a way of you expressing the way you relate to the world, then you do it whether you’re in the charts or not. So I think that’s maybe what I meant when I said that.

One of the things that I love about The Cribs is that I lived in Wakefield for four years and can appreciate that they have this wonderful way of sucking in their environment and projecting it back out again. Now, you came back to the UK to make this album – what was it about the UK environment that you wanted to creep into the record?Well, the atmosphere of towns and cities, buildings and the way people relate to them, and the way I relate to crowds - I think I relate to the environment as we all do, but maybe I’m a little more aware of it sometimes because I’m a writer – maybe? The very first thing on the album, ‘The Right Thing Right’ is about that and pretty much the whole album is about that, but I was kind of commenting on the fact that I know I’m a target for market forces, say, to certain crass commercialism, but I don’t complain, I just comment. I think it’d bring the music down to complain, but I think the very fact I’m aware of it, gives me the right attitude and that’s why I’m saying ‘I’ve got the right thing right’, you know, I’m not saying I’m beaten down by it, I’m almost saying, ‘Vive le resistance’ and sticking two fingers up to it, really. I think young people are good at that and school kids particularly; people who are in school are really good at it, at knowing the theatre of hypocrisy and recognising bullshit. We tend to over-analyse things and intellectualise things at a certain point in our lives and if we’re lucky, we come back to the same insights that we maybe had when we were teenagers. I’m glorifying teenage years; I’m very happy not to be one, thanks very much and I’m not someone who wishes they were younger, by any means but I’m making these comments about my environment and I’ve always noticed that kind of stuff, since being a little kid growing up in the city. I have a very close relationship and an interest in cities; being a working musician for most of my life, I’ve spent most of my life in cities round the world and been lucky enough to take that environment in. I think it’s just very good subject matter to put together with upbeat, banging new wave stuff, rather than some internalised, wishy washy songs about my feelings, or all that kind of drippy stuff, you know. Songs about being people and cities and being a person around other people seem to fit around the music that I like to sing.

Yeah, we’re British – we don’t need to know about your feelings, Johnny.Thank you very much, yeah, yeah, thank you.  “Dear diary…”

I had the pleasure of interviewing Ryan Jarman [guitarist from The Cribs] and he’d said what an influence you’d been on him forever, and then they were dead chuffed when you joined the band, and similarly, I imagine Modest Mouse felt pretty indepted to have you on board. As much as you’re the older dog, what did they teach you?Erm, well in the case of Modest Mouse, for example, it was good to be reminded that the stage is not to be taken for granted. They’re almost theatrical when they clamber up onto the stage, whether they realise it or not, and Isaac Brock has a very – well, even when Isaac Brock appears to be doing very little, I think there’s a very cool subtle theatre there and I hope he doesn’t mind me saying that. It’s really very interesting. When you’ve played a lot and also when playing the instrument comes fairly naturally and you have a knack for it – and I’ve been doing it since I was a kid – you can be somewhat cavalier about your approach to playing. It’s always intense and I’m always grateful to be a working musician and I’m never blasé on the stage, but it really was like a hydrogen bomb going off sometimes during the Modest Mouse set. The Cribs were that way too, I think; from The Cribs, it was just the excitement they have when they walk on stage – they seem to channel all the excitement from the audience and be charged themselves. It’s the sheer love of it; I never didn’t have that, but it was a very good thing to see. In the case of The Cribs, we both found that we had very fundamental views in common. They’re pretty numerous, but the best one was, that being on a band was being on a mission. They’re probably the best examples of it, and a lot of bands don’t put that across. I’ve always felt like I’m on my mission, whether as a band member or otherwise – I’ve been that way from being 14, 15 – and they are collectively like that. Is it because they’re family that it’s a bit more obvious? I wish more bands gave off that message.

Emma Garwood

See a music legend up-close as Johnny Marr comes to The Waterfront on March 11th. For tickets, go to www.ueaticketbookings.co.uk. Read the full version of this interview on Outlineonline.co.uk