modern music review

The High Llamas

Sean O’Hagan of The High Llamas - Charm issue 8, February 1998

“It's lazy writing, lazy analysis, I address so many other things but, unfortunately, the pricks who write that stuff, they're not committed to music, they don't want to go out and investigate, they just want to have a line of cocaine, have a drink and get a job on Radio One, so what do you do?” - Sean O’Hagan speaking to James Littlewood within the confines of Leeds International Hotel.

Question: Going back to 1994-95 when you were making Gideon Gaye at what was the height of Grunge, did you feel like you were going out on a limb?

Sean O'Hagan: Yeah, grunge was happening at the time. I'd made a record called Santa Barbara which was a guitar based pop record and to be quite honest it's like the Lightning Seeds and I realised it was a very different record to what was going on. Music was very two dimensional then it was like layered guitars, Mudhoney, Nirvana,, whatever, and even dance music had gone into this kind of weird good time Techno, which was very popular, and it was so depressing. I didn't think anyone was addressing great tunes.

Q: So how did you respond?

A: After the Santa Barbara record I just had to stop working with guitars. I started working with other instruments; Wurlitzers, Pianos, Keyboards, and I'd alter the sound so they didnt sound like pianos. I remember listening to things like Fred Neil, and early Byrds records but it was very much like 'I'm going to be totally derivative' so Pet Sounds and Smile as well as Fred Neil, some John Barry, they were the records that had always really touched me and I'd never really addressed them before.

Q: Do you think then that the musical climate has tilted in your direction recently?

A: Well yeah, and the weird thing is that so much so that people expect me to just drive up that tree lined avenue and pick the bucks up. Lots of people are using strings, but they're doing it badly and they're wearing suits.

Q: In theory The High Llamas should be bigger then?

A: Yeah but we're perceived as being difficult

Q: Why?

A: Because we don't play the game, we're over pedantic with the writing, avoiding the obvious. For instance I thought Hawaii was quite a dark record, I wanted to make quite an odd record but I ended up making a slick record. In Cold and Bouncy I wanted to make a messy, flighty, bizarre record, and that was perceived as being difficult. All the reviews said "Oh it wasn't the killer punch, it wasn't the one" and those people want me to work like Neil Hannon with an orchestra but I find that pompous, I hate that idea I don't like big orchestra music I like small ensembles, Ennio Morricone's best music is played with four strings.

Q: Does it annoy you that you're portrayed in the music press as a sort of curator of all things retro, pottering around reviving old records?

A: Well I don't think I am. You know? revive what? the only person I'm trying to revive apparently is Brian Wilson I It's ok to revive Chuck Berry one hundred and fifty thousand million times which is what everybody does but you do it a couple of times with Brian Wilson and everyone says 'ah! he's off on that one again'

Q: Do you mind if I ask you a Beach Boys question then?

A: No not at all

Q: Weren't you meant to be working with them?

A: Yeah it was set up by the record companies. Bruce Johnston wanted me to work with Brian Wilson to make a "great" Beach Boys album, because all they've done is make cabaret albums for the past 20 years. I wasn't into it though, I thought that if Brian couldn’t do it age 53 or whatever he is the he shouldn't be forced to, plus if it was bad I knew I'd go down in history, not for The High Llamas, but as the person who finally buried The Beach Boys.

Q: Did you meet Brian, and what did he think of your music?

A: Yeah I met him. It was strange. There was me, a couple of record company guys and Brian's wife. Brian didn't know that The Beach Boys were planning to make another record with him and me, so he seemed a bit confused. Eventually Brian's wife leaned over to him and told him "Brian this is Sean, he made that record you like" somebody had sent him a copy of Hawaii. Then he got up and started saying things like "I hear so much music, I gotta write" (Sean does an uncanny Brian Wilson Impression) so we all had to leave, at which point Brian sat down at the piano and bashed out 'Proud Mary'

Q: The constant association of yourself with them strikes me as a convenient way of pigeonholing you?

A: Again it's lazy writing, lazy analysis, I address so many other things but, unfortunately, the pricks who write that stuff, they're not committed to music, they don't wanna go out and investigate, they just wanna have a line of cocaine, have a drink and get a job on Radio One, so what do you do?. If could I'd steam into Radio One and sling them all out I'd play Brazilian music solid for a week. It's so amazing and this stuff is available.

Q: You've been working with Stereolab in Chicago, how does High Llamas music go down In the U.S.A?

A: Very good, we're got a completely different audience, we're totally accepted it's totally regarded as being adventurous music, and the electronic side of what we do is totally recognised. For instance I had a guy from this sort of art magazine, and it was a totally pretentious question, but he said to me (adopts silly American accent) "I believe what you're doing is what Tony Blair did for the Labour Party, he introduced the left to the right, the right to the left, you're introducing harmony to people who only listen to electronic music and vice versa" Now that is a simplistic analysis but it's a damn sight more interesting than anything that's been written about us in the mainstream press.

Q: How about your European audience?

A: We go to Germany because we've got so much interest in working with German musicians. But I think one of the brightest hopes is the Air record from France, they're really talented smart guys, I have absolute total respect for them, I love them. They've done what we should have done they totally blew us away on that one.

Q: Just going back to pretentious questions and art for a second. If you could choose a painter from the Twentieth Century to illustrate the sound of The High Llamas who would it be?

A: Oh let me think, God. The obvious thing would be to say Jackson Pollock, but that's a cop out, erm, erm, a guy called Dave Martin a young painter. He had a feature painting in The Independent and won BP awards. I do see what I do visually though with colours.

Q: That seems obvious from the way the records are presented

A: Yeah this album's like Pollock.

Q; But you said that Hawaii was in your mind a dark album but the visuals are warm?

A: Yeah but that's the right thing to do. I believe that you have to tell lies and you have to lay false trails and you have to be sort of devious, I really believe that

Q: Is that why whilst your music suggests warmth, lyrically it's cold?

A: Or detached, yeah, totally intentional, I hate the idea of revealing your inner self, it seems totally absurd, I wouldn't tell a stranger if I had a deep personal problem, so why would I want to write about it in a song? It's really cynical, I know but yeah it's totally detached, I can I do that. Getting back to visuals I like the idea of creating visuals wherever, whether it's musically or lyrically, and I like them being extremely odd and juxtaposed and confusing.

Q: Why confusion?

A: Ultimately to a kind of pleasant/weird confusion. I like the idea of coming away from music and feeling 'I don't know what it is but I like if - a weird warmness, I very much like the questioning and the scratching of the head.

James Littlewood