The Daily Telegraph Interview
Saturday 26 August 2000
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The following is the text from the interview. To download a copy to read at your leisure - press HERE. To see the picture accompanying the article, press HERE |
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Following
the appearance
of a recent, and actually rather positive, review of a Paul Weller
concert in the pages of The Daily Telegraph, one of the rock star's most
ardent admirers phoned the paper to take issue with a minor point of perceived
criticism. Which is fair enough, I suppose. The unusual thing about this
particular incident of a fan correcting a critic, however, was that the fan
turned out to be the star's mother.
"Bless
her," Weller laughs, when I inform him that she has been fighting his
battles. "We're a very defensive lot us Weller's,
mate. We stick together." Family
is important to Weller, It is a constant touchstone of his conversation. Even
when earnestly stressing the central place that music occupies in his existence,
he is quick to qualify his remarks with an affectionate nod to those closest to
him. "There's a quality of magic about music, and I don't know where else I
can find that in life, apart from the obvious: being with children and
family." Ever
since he first caught the attention of the British public in 1977 as a
19-year-old punk-rock guitar hero railing against the injustices of society,
Weller has been managed by his father, John. It is a relationship that has
proved the most consistent element of a changeable career, with Dad continuing
to take care of business while his son broke up his group the Jam at the height
of their popularity; led the Style Council through a playful but ultimately
demoralising flirtation with the superficial sophistication of Eighties pop
culture; and (having been dropped by his record company at the end of the
decade) picked up his guitar to re-establish himself in the Nineties as a
passionate singer-songwriter and icon of Britrock. "He's
more rock and roll than me," says the 42-year-old of his father. "He's
like, 'Right, we're off on the road, gotta
do another tour, son.' Maybe he just wants to get
away from my mum." But, joking aside, Weller
is sincere in his loyalty. "He's a unique person and we've been extremely
lucky; we've always had a good relationship." Fatherhood
is the theme of Sweet Pea, My Sweet Pea, a track from Welter's
latest album, Heliocentric,
released as a single last week (on Island records). It is an upbeat ode to his
eight-year-old daughter, Leah. "I just wanted
to write about the joy of being with her," says Weller. "There's a
line, 'Look back on these times and smile/And
have the grace to know what you have seen.’ That's something she ain't
going to get at her tender age, but, in years to come, maybe when she's got her
own children, she'll understand what I meant, look back on the fact that we've
had great times, all smiles and love and happiness." Leah
is one of four children. She and her 11-year-old brother, Nat, are the product
of Weller's marriage to former Style Council
vocalist D C Lee,
which ended in 1996. He also has a four-year-old daughter, Dylan, from a
short-lived relationship, and, in March this year, his longstanding girlfriend,
Sami Stock, gave birth to another daughter,
Jessamine. "I'll
probably get stick for that song in years to come," says Weller,
contemplating the reaction of his other offspring. "
'Why didn't you write about me? You always loved
her more than me.' But it's about all my children
really. They'll just have to look at the bigger picture." Weller's
amusement is quietly contained rather than effusive, but there is a relaxed air
of warmth in his features, his tanned and quite heavily wrinkled face displaying
more than its share of laughter lines. Sharply attired as ever, with elegantly
flared black pin-striped trousers and flowing white shirt, feather-cut mop-top
hairdo looking freshly coiffed, he is every inch
the greying Modfather, still adhering to the style
code of the new-wave mod revival he inspired. Back then, he was cast in the role
of spokesman for a generation and rose to the challenge with fiercely polemical,
angrily articulate recordings backed up with statements and benefit concerts in
support of the Labour Party. These days, you get the impression that Weller
is reluctant to speak for anyone but himself. "I
still hold some of the same principles," he says, cautiously. "Which
is a certain kind of socialism, equality for people, just doing what I think is
right for society. But I got my fingers burnt in the Eighties, so I am very
cynical and suspicious. You are only going to get used by politicians, that's
the bottom line. I'm sceptical about all of them. And I suppose, once you’ve
had a family like a lot of people, get caught up in that, making sure they're
all right." Although
he can still be roused by the subject of social injustice, Weller's
few desultory comments on endemic poverty, hidden
taxes and Labour's failure to improve the NHS
sound more like grumpiness than passionate
political oratory. "It's all a bit wishy-washy
now. It's not that black and white any more," he sighs, as if nostalgic for
the naive certainties of a time when he was hailed as a working-class hero.
"You kind of become classless if you are successful doing what I do. But I
don't like the thought that I am middle class because I've got money, either. I
don't want to become part of anyone's class or party." Widely
admired for the idealism and conviction that he has brought to his music, Weller
is preceded by a reputation that I suspect he is not entirely comfortable with.
Intensely private, a little bit awkward and lacking the articulacy
he brings to his sharply honed lyrics, he would clearly much rather let his
music do the talking. "I'm never over-keen to do interviews," he says.
"All people seem to want is life-style stuff, and there is nothing I can
say about that. Who gives a shit?" Yet,
despite his professed discomfort, Weller is evidently in a good mood, and is
honest enough to admit that this is not always the case. "My moods are very
extreme, up and down, maybe bordering on manic
depression," he says. It is a volatility that has taken him through
many career changes and
provided inspiration for some of his strongest songs (My Ever Changing Moods,
Changin' Man, Brand New Start). Yet, paradoxically,
Weller has come to represent a particular kind of consistency in the British
music scene, which he acknowledges when laughingly
referring to himself as "Old Reliable". "I
still believe in the music," he says. "It's the key to a lot of things
for me. And the music is always reliable. I can go back not just to my music but
to any music that I ever got off on, and still get off on it again. That's what
I'm trying to work towards, to create something that is going to last and has
some value and depth to it." Weller
is almost apologetic when he admits that "music is one of the only things
that interests me". He says he reads a great deal ("but mainly books
about music") and listens to music every day ("a pretty broad
selection, but mainly reggae and jazz at the
moment"). He says he is consistently
fascinated by the connections between different musical genres. "From the
music on Heliocentric, You probably couldn't tell I've been listening to
John Coltrane, but I'm inspired by the spirit of
those people as much as their playing." He plays his guitar every day,
"just for the enjoyment of it, the way you get lost when you play an
instrument, wherever that takes you. But I'm always looking to write as well.
That's what I do in life." For
someone who has released three greatest-hits collections during his career, Weller
makes the curious admission that he does not consider himself prolific.
"It's not like I'm sitting here with 16 tunes in the bank. I've got loads
of little fragments of chords and melodies, maybe a few lines of lyrics, and I
tend to save them up until I can make them work, until they all fit into each
other. But it's always been a struggle for me." His
aim, he says, is simply to "have a bag of songs by the end of the
year". Many of his albums (particularly with the Jam and Style Council)
have had a conceptual framework, but these days he finds such notions extra to
requirements. "I haven't got any pretensions about it, really. I just think
it's good music, and occasionally I think it's great music. And that is really
the concept. I don't need to dress it up in any other way. I am too old for that
sort of thing. The music should be strong enough and inspiring enough in itself.
And it seems to be." Weller
waxes unexpectedly lyrical on the subject of how his improved musician-ship and
growing knowledge of musical history has opened up new vistas of creativity for
him. "As far as I'm concerned, all the indigenous folk music of the world
has the same roots; they're just different branches. But it's all part of the
same tree to me, and I think that is bigger than any concept I could come up
with. There is magic in music when you play a great gig, and that is the feeling
that keeps making me come back for more. '
' There
have been Jam and Style Council retrospectives in
recent years, and a Weller tribute album ("my
testimonial", as he jokingly refers to it),
featuring performances from Liam Gallagher
and the Beastie Boys ("I was flattered,"
says Weller, "but I still prefer the originals").
However, Weller is not inclined to dwell on his illustrious past. "I
liked it then and I like now better," he says. "That's the plot
really. And I think that's a part of being a modernist, that whole mod
concept." He
says he still adheres to the values of the Sixties youth movement that inspired
him as a young punk. "I'm still in love with all of it. If I've got any
sort of code at all in life, it is still that. It's not just the clothes and the
music, it's a certain vision of living. It's about taking whatever is good,
whether it's from the past or from now, and using
it. I don't think it's about, pretending it's 1965. I quite like the idea that
it's the year 2000 and it's still ongoing. My recent child is a space-baby as
far as I'm concerted —21st-century girl!" Weller seems quite struck by his little speech. "I'd like to be able to make the soundtrack for what I just spoke about there. Modern mod music," he says, as if the idea has just occurred to him. And then, with a laugh: "Maybe I have got another concept album in me: '2001: A Space Modyssey'." |