John Grant - Tales About The Queen Of Ghosts

interview by Guia Cortassa

I meet John Grant in Milan, at Santeria, a couple of hours before the showcase where he'll present his new album, “Pale Green Ghosts”, to the press, on the very day of its official release. He's visibly tired, fresh from a marathon of appearances on numerous local TV and radio shows, confirming the huge attention the Denver singer-songwriter is drawing to his work. From the very first moments, as soon as I arrive, it's clear that ours will be more of a chat than a proper interview, and that will help bring to light some still little-known sides of the music of the former Czars frontman.

Have you been to any festivals…

Yes!

I can tell from your wrist…

Ah, yes! Those are the wristbands from End of the Road.

Oh! That's such a great festival!

Yes, it really is

It's really wonderful, isn't it?

Yes, yes. We're not going back this year, and we're a bit sad about it. We went two years in a row.

I saw, and this year's lineup is really good too!

Yes, Sigur Ros and Belle & Sebastian will be there…

I read that too, it'll be excellent again!

So, today's the official release day for your record. How are you feeling?

I'm very nervous, even though I keep forgetting about it… I mean, for me it's already been out for a year now [laughs]. It's exciting, I'm happy it's finally out.

What are you expecting this time around?

I never expect anything! [laughs] I just wait and see. I hope people like it, and right now I'm more focused on heading out and playing the first live shows, that's what I've been worrying about lately. I've got two really big shows this week, in London and then back in Reykjavik.

Ah right, because you're in Iceland now…

Yes, and it's amazing.

What's it like living up there?

It's really beautiful, very relaxed, the landscape is gorgeous, I've met some amazing people, I've made a lot of friends.

You recorded “Pale Green Ghosts” there…

Yes, the whole album.

Did you write parts of it there too?

Some of it was actually written there too, for example “Glacier”, and I finished a lot of the songs there, like “Blackbelt”. I did a lot of writing there.

Did the place influence you in some way?

Yes, absolutely, but I think what inspires me most is going into the studio every day, which can sometimes be a bit difficult. Anyway, it's just gorgeous up there, I think the inspiration was more general, although “Glacier” came about from looking at a landscape.

When “Queen of Denmark” came out, did you expect the reception it got? It won a Mojo Award for album of the year…

No, I didn't expect it at all, and it's still hard to believe…

Really?

Yes, even now I don't believe it. I didn't expect it, so it was very exciting for me.

What struck me the first time I heard “Queen Of Denmark” was its honesty, telling everything exactly as it was, without needing to add fiction – you know, I've talked to some singer-songwriters who told me “I have to add fiction to my stories because I can't leave everything so explicit” – but you didn't do that…

No, exactly. Although, of course, in some way it could be considered fiction, because it's only my perception of the world, which maybe isn't necessarily reality for someone else. But for me it's the truth, or at least as true as I can be with myself. There are so many different ways of looking at things, right? And here there's only one, mine, which is why I'm sure it could be considered fiction, because it all passed through the filter of my mind, and what you would have seen, had you been there while those scenes were happening, would have been very different, I'm sure of that. It all went through the machinery of my mind. But I think what matters to me is being as honest as possible about how I perceive things.

Weren't you afraid of being judged by the people who would listen to the record?

No. Not at all. Sometimes I think about it, and I don't want to be judged, but honestly, I don't care that much; I've been judged for a long time, and I always will be more and more, I myself judge others, I think everyone does.

Well, that's human.

Yes, it's a very human thing, and it doesn't matter. What matters to me is learning to live my life in a way that isn't destructive for me. It's important for me to try to learn how to have fun, to be compassionate, to connect with people; to learn to love, and to allow myself to be loved, which seems to be a very difficult thing for me. Those are the important things.

Reading all the interviews and articles about you that have come out online so far, it seems that your personal story very often precedes your music. As a songwriter, how do you experience that?

Yes, people want to talk about me before they want to talk about my music. It doesn't bother me. Because you can just listen to the music, it's there for that, and maybe you don't want to discuss it that much. But talking about me, about who I am, is talking about my music - the two things can't really be separated, in my case. It's not a problem.

You're an excellent pianist…

No, he's an excellent pianist, the guy who's playing right now [Chris Pemberton, who's rehearsing for the showcase in the other room, ed.], I'm just okay…

I'm very curious to know what your "musical education" was like - I've never heard you talk about it.

Well, I didn't have much of a musical education, I grew up taking piano lessons, classical piano, but privately, I never went to school for it.

What did you grow up listening to?

From a classical standpoint, I loved playing ragtime music, like Scott Joplin, Joseph Lamb, William Bolcom. At the same time - I was taking lessons a lot in the Eighties - I really liked pop and electronic music, I listened to Eurythmics, Missing Persons were one of my favourite bands, then Devo, Cabaret Voltaire, Yello, Chris & Cosey, Fad Gadget, D.A.F., New Order, Depeche Mode - tons of Depeche Mode - Ministry, Skinny Puppy; also a lot of industrial electronic music, the genre was called Electronic Body Music, stuff that came from Belgium, like Play It Again Sam, Click Click and Front 242. But I also liked Jean Michel Jarre and a lot of Italian Italo Disco, even though I don't know that much about it. Italy has a great electronic music output.

How does your songwriting work? How does one of your songs come about?

It's always different, very often it starts with a chorus, other times it can be anything, even just an idea or a word that I like. It can be an intuition at the piano, a melody, but very often it's the chorus. Sometimes the whole song [snaps fingers] comes immediately, in ten or twenty minutes, maybe half an hour, something like that. It's rare, but it happens sometimes. Other times I come up with part of the song, and then I can't finish it for months, but I know I'll get there if I don't force it, if I let it come on its own. Sure, you can work at it, but if something doesn't come right away you shouldn't worry, because it will come later - even if it's hard to remember that while you're in the middle of it [laughs].

So, the sound of "Pale Green Ghosts" is tied to what you listened to in the past; but did you start out from the beginning with the idea of an electronic record, or did the sound emerge as you worked on it?

I always wanted to do it, I'd wanted to since the beginning, but the time was never right. Now, finally, it was. It felt very natural to me, because it's an important part of my past, and also a huge part of my present - I still listen to a lot of electronic music, and, you know, I love synthesizers, I love their sound!

The first time I heard you play live was in 2011 at the End of the Road Festival. You were on stage with just a synth, and it was a surprise, I wasn't expecting anything like that. Then I heard you again, also at End of the Road, the following year, in 2012, and this time you had a piano and a violin, and the result was completely different…

Yes, that's true. I was finishing the record around that time, and I didn't want to perform, because I'd never played those songs before, and I wasn't really ready. I was tired, and I wanted to stay focused on finishing the record, because I still had two months to go before the deadline. But it was still a nice occasion

How will you present “Pale Green Ghosts” live?

With a full band. There'll be a lot of electronics, but also a guitar, bass, and computers and keyboards. We'll mostly play the new songs, from the latest album, with a few old ones here and there.

Again at the last End of the Road I heard “GMF” for the first time, which is the song I immediately connected with on the new record. I saw a video, which I think is the official clip, where you're playing basketball, and I found it the exact key to understanding “Pale Green Ghosts”. Do you agree?

Yes, I can see that, it makes sense. I agree that it could be that way, for some people. It's hard for me to say, because I understand it, and it comes from me. But it's interesting that you'd say that.

In the same way, the album's title, which you've said refers to the trees along the road you used to drive when you lived in Colorado, suggests something intimately tied to ghosts from a more personal past…

Yes.

So, maybe even more than “Queen Of Denmark”, this record could be seen as a kind of self-help?

I don't know. It could be. It's very possible. I've never thought of it in those terms, but it's definitely a much darker record for me, in some ways.

I can see a lot of, let's say, “contradictions” in it. A track like “Blackbelt”, for instance, with its lyrics, has a dance beat and sound instead; at first glance you might think it's something carefree, something you could dance to in a club, but if you listen closely to the lyrics, instead…

Yes, I like doing that, I like putting together elements that don't necessarily belong together. But as for the self-help thing, for me “Queen Of Denmark” was something similar too. I'm interested in that kind of perspective, but I'm not sure, I suppose what I'm doing is trying to understand my own story, and trying to understand the world, which for me seems like a very difficult thing. I tend to run away a lot, in many different ways, like in films –anything to avoid looking in the mirror and having to deal with this [points to his own body]– so for me it's also a way of confronting myself.

Speaking of influences, I was intrigued that you used Rachmaninoff as an inspiration, as a source for an electronic sound like the one on the title track.

There have been a lot of people who worked that way in the past, like that Japanese artist, Tomita, who made an entire album of Debussy played exclusively on a synthesizer, so maybe it's an old idea, but what I think makes it different is that I used Rachmaninoff on “Pale Green Ghosts” for the string section, basing it on the Prelude in C# minor, which is one of my favorite compositions.

Yes, it's beautiful. I love Rachmaninoff a lot too.

Me too, and it just happened that, while working on “Pale Green Ghosts”, the prelude fit perfectly, and it was a way for me to pay tribute to one of the things I love most, as well as making me feel pretty smart too [laughs]. But I adore that piece, it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard.

I can also pick up on –though maybe this is more about my background than yours– a very jazz sound in your records. Maybe more so in “Queen Of Denmark” than in the latest one, I'm thinking for instance of the piano in “Where Dreams Go To Die”. Is that possible?

Yes! That's a really interesting observation, I'd never heard it put that way before, but it makes sense, because jazz was also a very important part of my background, mostly through Nina Simone, who's one of my biggest influences. I think she's one of the greatest singers of all time, I don't think anyone else could... no, she's the best, the GMF [laughs], I even saw her live once. She managed so brilliantly to bring together jazz and classical music, in so many incredible and different ways, like in "Little Boy Blue" with Bach. I think that's a really interesting comment, and I think it's true, even though I'd never thought about it before.

I hear it more in the live performances than on the record, but that piano part in the song is so jazz, and it's strange because at the same time, in "Queen Of Denmark" I hear so much of the Beatles. The way you manage to make your jazz and classical influences coexist with pop is remarkable – I wonder if you do it intentionally.

Oh, thank you, that's really nice to hear. I do it intentionally, and it's not easy at all, because you're always trying to let things happen naturally. But it is my intention. And it has to work. If it didn't work there'd be nothing to worry about, because it just wouldn't come across.

One last question: I know you've collaborated with Hercules & Love Affair. What was that experience like, and what should we expect?

Honestly, I don't know. I find it difficult to collaborate with other people, because I always feel like I don't do things as well with them as I would on my own, I think I do better when I work alone. I don't know if [Andrew Butler] will use anything we did together on the new record, but I think it's possible, and we should also get back into the studio, though I don't know when, I suppose at the end of March, whenever I have a couple of free minutes. I love working with Andy, he's an extremely smart person and he's a friend, so it's also a great opportunity to spend some time together, which is the most important thing to me. I also think I can do better with him, we need more time to work together, so I don't know what will come out of this relationship, but it'll definitely be something cool.

Thank you, John.

It was a pleasure, thank you.

(Thanks to Marco Aimo/Cooperative Music for making this meeting possible)

***

Paint the moon and the stars (in an autumn sky)

by Francesco Amoroso

Ever since John Grant, five years after his last album with the Czars ("Sorry I Made You Cry"), returned to the spotlight with his sensational, widely praised solo debut "Queen Of Denmark", the specialist press has not held back from offering the public, through interviews, retrospectives and articles openly flirting with gossip, every detail of the American artist's private life.

It's certainly true that John's past, made up of alcohol and drug abuse, a life lived constantly on the edge of nervous breakdown (and, at times, beyond it), and a homosexuality experienced in a difficult yet, at the same time, openly displayed way, forcefully permeates the songs that make up "Queen Of Denmark", an album that is autobiographical and sincere to the core, but dwelling (sometimes morbidly) on the private aspects of Grant's life would run the risk of letting the extraordinary musical qualities of one of the best-realized works of 2010 fade into the background.

"Queen Of Denmark", instead, has given us back a great talent that seemed lost for good, and has finally earned him significant critical acclaim and a wealth of awards and recognitions which, even almost a year after the album's release, keep coming in.

John, who in any case has never been reticent about his past, nonetheless seems not to have let it go to his head at all, and remains an affable, extremely courteous and very approachable person.

His warmth is evident even when, between the soundcheck and the start of a show on his European tour, we reach him by phone.

Despite the temperamental phone line, which drops a couple of times, and the approaching moment when he has to go on stage (with the need to warm up his voice), he seems genuinely happy to give us a bit of his time to share with me and with OndaRock's readers his thoughts and his musical and cultural passions, assuring us, in the end, that he'll be back in Italy soon, where he has, every time, received an extremely warm welcome.

Despite the restless (and unsettling) gaze in some of his photographs, a true gentleman from another era.

In every interview you've given, your personal story has always been at least as prominent as your music and your album. Are you okay with that? How does it make you feel?

It's clear I'd always rather talk about music, but it seems inevitable that the conversation ends up being about me and my story, given how personal my music is and how the subjects I deal with are drawn from my own life experiences. I doubt you could talk about this album while keeping it completely separate from my personal story. It's something I understand and accept, and anyway, I really have nothing to hide.

Let's try to talk more about your music then, since so much is already known about your personal story. Maybe we could start with your "musical" history. Why do you think, for instance, that Czars never managed to achieve the success they probably deserved?

Basically, I think the timing just wasn't right for any of us. It wasn't the band I was meant to be in. Maybe we should have broken up after just one album, because big ego problems showed up almost immediately. I wanted to be in charge and made no secret of it, but no one else was willing to be led, and my own personal problems certainly didn't help create the right atmosphere within the band.

What we lacked, above all, were the right reasons for being in a band: we just wanted success, we weren't in a band to make music with friends, but to try to break into the music business.

Still, you did write some remarkable albums and quite a few memorable songs. Do you agree? And which ones do you prefer?

I think the band's last album, "Goodbye", is the most accomplished one, the one where the blend of our different, clashing personalities worked best. As for songs, there are plenty I still love and that I keep playing live, but I won't hesitate to name one: "Paint The Moon". I'm still very attached to that song and I play it almost every night on my current tour too.

Do you think you would have been able to write songs like the ones on "Queen Of Denmark" if you had stayed with Czars?

I'd say definitely not. There was no room in the band for me to explore my inner world. I wasn't accepted for who I was, I was in constant conflict, and it's not easy to come to terms with yourself when you constantly have to deal with conflict with others. That's exactly what Midlake did for me: they gave me the chance to be completely myself, without ever feeling judged. Only that way was I able to express myself at my best and truly bring out everything I had inside.

After the experience with Czars and the definitive split, you almost gave up music altogether. What did Midlake give you to help you rediscover your enthusiasm, and how did you meet?

As I told you, the most extraordinary thing they did for me was accept me for who I am, without ever trying to judge me and, above all, without ever giving me the impression that they were there to help out some poor "loser", some sick person in need of help and pity. At the time I was trying to build a life for myself in New York, once again. And I didn't feel too great about myself. So it wasn't exactly easy to accept the challenge of moving for a while to a small town in Texas to try to record an album that, for the most part, I hadn't even written yet. Let's just say I was about to turn forty back then and I was starting to see myself as a bit of a failure, for not having a life of my own, a partner, a house, a car, and for not having achieved any of my goals. But I was truly struck by the band's straightforwardness: all they asked of me was to go to Texas and record an album with them. And that was only because we knew each other and they valued me as an artist.

We've known each other for years, since both Czars and Midlake recorded for Bella Union — actually, we were there from the very start, and they came along much later (and found success much sooner!).

But whose idea was the sound of "Queen Of Denmark"? Did they influence you? Was that very Seventies sound your own choice, or did it come from a suggestion of theirs?

I'll take credit for the idea behind the album's overall sound. I wanted to make an album that sounded like Carpenters! I'd always wanted to write songs with that particular vibe, but I don't think I was really capable of it on my own. Instead, Midlake brought out all the Seventies influences in my music. That's exactly what I wanted, and Midlake were truly the perfect band for it. Above all, they have the technical skill to get a song to sound exactly the way they want. I know nothing about amplifiers, recording, tubes, while they knew everything. So all I had to do was ask, and they'd manage to get the sound I wanted. They were completely willing to help, and even when things didn't seem to be going right after the first attempts, they patiently and calmly got to work until the record sounded the way we wanted it to.

In the record, though, there aren't just obvious references to the Seventies - the Eighties are also heavily referenced, particularly in the use of synths. No one does synth solos anymore like the ones we hear on "Caramel" or "It's Easier". After all, you use a lot of synths live too.

That's very true. I wasn't just influenced by Seventies bands like Bread, Journey, or Supertramp (not to mention ABBA) - I also loved and listened to a ton of bands that made excessive use of synthesizers in the Eighties. I could name you endless examples: from the obvious New Order to Visage, from Yazoo to Blancmange and Alien Sex Fiend. I loved the early work of Eurythmics: "In The Garden", "Sweet Dreams", "Touch" were important to me and I still love them. But also bands like Depeche Mode, Ultravox, Bronski Beat... I adored Bronski Beat. All this music was important to me and, in some way, I even tried to pay tribute to it... even though nobody agreed with me on those synth solos. They're not fashionable, but that was exactly what I wanted.

How and when did you discover you could sing, and is there a singer who particularly influenced you?

I started singing very early on, in the church choir. It came very naturally to me, but I wasn't considered the best by any means. Still, I kept doing it, and the positive response from people when I sang pushed me to keep going.

I don't think my singing style is particularly influenced by anyone, because I sing however it comes to me. It's what I'm able to do, and I don't try to force myself into doing something different. When I try to push it a bit, maybe screaming or going for a more shouted, punk-adjacent vocal, it feels less like me, less genuine.

I have to say, though, that if I had to name some influences, I'd definitely have to mention some female singers: Kate Bush above all. "Hounds Of Love" was an unforgettable experience for me. But the way Liz Fraser of Cocteau Twins sings, or Lisa Gerrard of Dead Can Dance, has always fascinated me too. In fact I could even consider Brendan Perry (also of Dead Can Dance, ed.) an influence in some way. And, even though our approaches are quite different, I'd mention Frank Black of the Pixies: to me he's a genius in vocal expression too, he has a unique, inimitable style, but if I had to pick one thing, I'd love to be able to use that register as well.

We've talked about the music and your vocal style. What about your lyrics, though? They're so personal, and at times raw, yet they manage to be ironic, sharp, deep. It almost feels like a more English way of writing than that of an American songwriter.

I'll take that as a compliment. Actually, though, if I had to name one influence, I'd definitely say Mark Eitzel (of American Music Club, ed.): he taught me that lyrics exist to get out everything you have inside. You don't always have to try to write catchy lines, or write your masterpiece every single time. In fact, you can, and you should, also write a load of garbage, because it's out of that stuff that your masterpiece might eventually come. I think the way he writes lyrics - always personal, often romantic or tragic, but never giving up on irony - really helped me find my own voice.

In fact, in your lyrics you can often find references to a distinctly pop imagery, like mentions of monsters and aliens. Are these in some way metaphors you use to express something more personal?

What can I tell you? Monsters, aliens, science fiction in general have always been hugely important to me. For a while I used to fantasize that the people I was dealing with were actually monsters, and that, as a result, maybe sooner or later I'd be able to return to normality and finally get rid of these troublesome presences. So I'd say it was fairly natural for me to use this kind of imagery in my lyrics.

Old horror movies are also part of my imagination: films like "Rosemary's Baby" or the "Alien" movies themselves, but also Francis Ford Coppola's "Dracula" - even though not everyone liked it, to me it was an extraordinary film. I don't think there are films like that anymore that manage to have such a big appeal on people. Nowadays it's all reduced to gruesome, disgusting stuff. But back then, that kind of film was really deep in people's collective imagination. So it's easy and natural for me to use certain "images" like that in my lyrics.

A lot of people think I'm more influenced by Europe than America, maybe because I've lived in Europe for so many years, but deep down I'm still a guy who grew up between Michigan and Colorado, and my culture is deeply steeped in a whole set of typically American pop icons.

Is that the reason you mention names like Sigourney Weaver or Winona Ryder? Why did you want to include them in one of your songs?

I mention them because they're really part of my culture and my life. Sigourney Weaver, for instance, I've always loved her, I adored her character in "Alien" and I wanted to mention her almost as a tribute. I talk about the things that, one way or another, inspire me. I just wonder if she's ever heard the song and what she thinks of it.

Maybe now that your record has received a nomination for the Mojo Awards, it'll be easier for her to hear it...

I don't know, I hope so.

As for Winona Ryder (and Keanu Reeves, though I won't mention him!), it all comes from the fact that their attempt to imitate an English accent in the film "Dracula" was pretty ridiculous and poorly done, and I've always had a tendency to speak in a rather affected way. I also wanted to imitate the British accent, though I'm not sure it ever really worked. So I mentioned them because, in some way, they were talking about me too.

Speaking of the Mojo nominations, we actually found out today that you got three: for best album, with "Queen Of Denmark", for best song with "I Wanna Go To Marz", and for best live performance (this last one turned into a "MOJO Best Live Act Award", ed.). How does it feel to start collecting all these accolades?

First of all, I want to tell you that the song has always just been called "Marz". Most people keep calling it "I Wanna Go To Marz", but the title is simply "Marz". That said, I have to tell you it feels really good, truly! It's a genuinely nice feeling. Obviously I'm trying not to put too much weight on these things, because I know there are so many bands out there who deserve it, so many good singers, and I know it could all pass soon enough. I'm also trying not to overthink things: I know my music is reaching a lot of people, and that makes me happy, so why should I ruin this moment for myself?

I read that at first you weren't really able to enjoy the success and the praise you received for "Queen Of Denmark", because you were going through a difficult time in your life and weren't in the right mood for it. Have things changed a bit now, then?

I'd say so. I'm starting to get my life working, in a way. I'm trying to enjoy it a bit more. There are still plenty of unresolved issues, plenty of difficult things to face, I still worry too much about the future and dwell too much on the past, but even so I'm trying to enjoy the moment. I'm getting a little better at it, I hope.

In one interview you said things kept not working out for you because you kept wanting to be cool, "you still wanted to be MGMT", because the kid inside you still wanted to be accepted by the coolest kids in school…

Yes, deep down part of me would still like to be in one of those bands everyone talks about, always riding the wave and loved by the coolest kids, like MGMT or Cut Copy, and I know that's never going to happen to me. But at the same time, I think I've reached a point in my life where I don't really want to be anything other than myself. I'm over forty now, and maybe I've learned to accept what I see every day when I look in the mirror. Always seeing the same me has helped me accept myself and stop wanting to be something I'm not.

In the end, do you think your debut album could be considered more of a dark, somewhat sad record, or do you see the final result as full of hope?

I'd say without a doubt that it's an album that's somehow "uplifting". It certainly has its dark, gloomy moments, but it seems to me there's always that dose of irony that balances things out a bit.

During this period of touring and promotion, have you managed to write any new songs? And do you think you'll record them again with the same people?

Yes, I've written a lot, really, and I hope to be able to start working on my second album soon. I'd like it to be different from the last one: I don't want people to get bored of me. Either way, I really hope I can work with Midlake again. It's a matter of scheduling. We've planned to start recording in January, since I still have a lot of shows to play between now and the end of the year. We'll see if we manage to clear our respective schedules for that period and get back there to Texas to record, especially since Midlake are about to finish their new album and, right after that, they'll obviously have to start a new tour. We'll see if we can figure out when it'll be possible to work together.

One last question: what's your relationship with the audience and the fans like? Do you enjoy playing live?

I love it. I love playing in front of a crowd.

But what I really appreciate most is talking to people after the shows, seeing so many new faces, looking them in the eye, seeing their smiles, exchanging opinions, hearing what they think of your music, meeting new people from so many different places. When you're on stage you end up shutting yourself off in a world of your own, a dimension all your own. So, at the end of every show, it's a bit like coming back down into reality, and sometimes it's really exciting.

John Grant's ten favorite songs (courtesy of Fiore):

1. Abba – SOS

2. Yello – Sometimes

3. Icehouse – Icehouse

4. Kate Bush – Night Of The Swallow

5. Eurythmics – No Fear, No Hate, No Pain (No Broken Heart)

6. Missing Persons – Noticeable Ones

7. Dead Can Dance – De Profundis

8. Cocteau Twins – Beatrix

9. Sinead O’Connor – Success Has Made A Failure Of Our Home

10. Journey – Something To Hide

(18/09/2011)

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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Guia Cortassa, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

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