Lisa Germano - The Sweet Obsession

You imagine her as elusive and inscrutable, immersed in her notes and scores, in her tales of (extra)ordinary desperation. Instead, Lisa Germano comes across as immediately warm and approachable. She finally seems at peace. And she's happy to open up to an audience, the Italian one, that she says she loves and that she'll get to meet during her new tour, starting in early May. So the only obstacle between the writer and what is perhaps the most important contemporary songwriter remains… books! Yes, because during the day Lisa Germano has to work hard in a bookshop to make ends meet. That's the cynical, crooked way of the world… At least for now, because when asked "can't you really make a living from music alone?", she answers serenely: "Who knows… I keep trying"… And so, from this spontaneous exchange, snatched from her precious free time, an interview was born, one that tries to take stock of the state of her art a year after the release of the excellent "In The Maybe World", the first fruit of her partnership with Michael Gira's Young God, and on the eve of her departure for her new European tour.

You come from a family of classical musicians, you started out playing the violin, and overall you seem to have a "classical" approach. What pushed you instead to choose other paths?

Maybe it's my love of melody that leads a lot of people to sense a classical approach in my music. In my musical growth, the classical approach represented above all perfection and rules to follow; but I've always had more fun breaking those rules and letting myself be carried away by the mistakes that lead you off the beaten path, creating intense and unique moments.

In the past you said you didn't feel like a "singer-songwriter", do you still think that?

Yes, I consider myself above all a storyteller, I like telling stories. I don't think of myself as a singer-songwriter because I don't feel much kinship with people who define themselves that way. There are a lot of artists who, drawn to a formula, feel comfortable reproducing it. I, on the other hand, feel more inspired when my original idea changes, opening up to whatever might happen and taking me somewhere I never expected to end up: an approach free from formulas, in short. I'm not the kind of artist who starts the day saying "today I have to write a song". It takes skill to be able to work that way, I could never manage it…

Your latest album is also the first for Michael Gira's Young God. Can you tell us something about how you met Michael? How did it happen and what do you think of his music?

I have a great relationship with Michael Gira, because he's a very creative person and our conversations are always direct and honest. He gave me complete freedom to experiment with my music, his suggestions were never intrusive, but always interesting and useful. I have a lot of trust in his aesthetic sense and I like his approach to music. The "In The Maybe World" project came about in a completely spontaneous way. I started writing something without even knowing whether I'd ever play it for anyone. Then, all of a sudden, I realized it could all make sense and I sent the material to Michael, even before I'd ever played it for anyone else. And he replied like this: "This is definitely an album, and of course I want to release it, so let's get to work…". I really needed his trust, because I wasn't at all sure I'd manage to finish the record.

About your previous album, "Lullaby For A Liquid Pig", you said "I don't think it works unless you listen to it alone". How important is isolation and solitude in your songs? And do you still think that the city you live in, Los Angeles, makes you feel more alone?

No, now I have to say I like living in Los Angeles. Now that I have a man in my life, it's not so dark here anymore, quite the opposite, it's a wonderful place. As for "Lullaby For A Liquid Pig", I think you can listen to it in any situation, but that it works better if you listen to it alone, by yourself, to really feel inside that kind of feeling and not have someone judging your emotions. In general, my music certainly isn't the kind you'd play at parties… And if something touches you personally, sometimes you feel a bit embarrassed sharing it with others.

I really loved your latest album, "In The Maybe World", and I think it's your best work since "Geek The Girl". I found all the ghosts and fears of that album again, but also a calmer approach to life and death. Is that right?

Thank you for saying that, first of all. I really do think it's my most "positive" record to date and I hope to keep going in this direction.

I always thought of "In The Maybe World" as an album about death, and in fact it was born out of certain reflections on that theme, after my father's surgery, the fear of losing him... but in reality it's an album about life, about hope. Death, the feeling of loss, become the tools for trying to see life from another angle, to understand its beauty. If I have to think of a true album about death, though, what comes to mind is "Electro-Shock Blues" by Eels. It's the best one, I adore it.

Speaking of songs about death, two tracks from "In The Maybe World" have a particular story behind them: "Golden Cities" was inspired by the death of your cat, while "Except For The Ghosts" was written in memory of Jeff Buckley, whom you'd met shortly before his death...

Yes, actually Miamo-tutti (her cat, ed.) is the true author of "Golden Cities". It sounds bizarre, but that's how it is. I was holding him in my arms when he was very sick, and I felt the urge to hum that melody to comfort him... then the words came too. At the time I hadn't understood that it was him sending me that melody, that he was the one trying to comfort me, but I think that's really what happened.

"Except For The Ghosts", on the other hand, I wrote right after Jeff's death. I didn't know him well, but I felt there was something good in his soul, he was a very sweet person. So I felt the need to give him my farewell with this song. I wrote "Except For The Ghosts" imagining what he might have felt at the moment of his death: when I sing it, I think of Jeff swimming toward me — it sounds a bit strange, but that's how it is. More broadly, for me that song has to do with anyone going through a crucial moment in life, close to giving up, alone and needing to let go... whether to death or simply to a profound change.

It amazes me that, in the homeland of independent music, one of the leading artists of that scene should be forced to work in a bookshop to pay the bills at the end of the month. It seems almost like final proof that writing great music can't be a career. Have you ever wondered why your records don't sell enough? Personally, I think your music is anything but inaccessible...

Well, you never know... I keep trying, we'll see how it goes, even though I don't write music with the idea of selling it, and I'm not obsessed with that goal.

Sure, my music isn't suited for the megastores. It's atmospheric music, but I think it can really speak to a person, that someone can deeply identify with it. Maybe one of the reasons my records don't sell much is that they can't speak to a lot of people at once. But I also get very touching letters, from people who say they were emotionally moved by my songs. And that encourages me to keep going. I also still think it would be fun to write something more "pop". It's not that I'm against it, it's just that it doesn't come naturally to me, I don't have that kind of talent.

You've been through numerous labels, each with different approaches and styles (from Capitol to 4AD, from Ineffable to Young God). What has stayed with you from these experiences, and in particular, what do you think Young God's aesthetic can bring to your music?

Every label is essentially trying to sell records. I've been very lucky with the various labels I've worked with, apart from Capitol, where all we did was argue: actually they'd signed me for a single song, "You Make Me Wanna Wear Dresses", they thought it could become a pop hit, but in reality my music isn't suited to major labels... Anyway, they've all always let me express myself artistically. Young God too has given me a lot of freedom, and certainly Michael Gira's great aesthetic sense offers an extra spark: I hope it can help me express myself at my best.

Your songs are always very personal, sometimes they almost feel like a stream of consciousness. Have you ever had any regrets about what you'd "confessed", any fear of having told too personal a story and exposed yourself too much?

When I write a song I sink into my darkest emotions, it's something I need to get out, almost a physiological reflex, like crying or laughing hard.

But I think I deal with psychological states and emotions that anyone could recognise as their own, if they let themselves fall into the right frame of mind to experience them.

Sometimes I even test the effect my songs have on people, to figure out whether they're too personal or not. When I wrote "Moon In Hell", for instance, I thought it was really too personal a song. Then I played it for a friend who at the time was working with people struggling with drug problems, and he told me: "My God, you've described exactly that world". The funny thing is that for me it meant something completely different, but I said to myself: "Well, maybe it wasn't too personal after all!"

Is it true that for "Geek The Girl" you received a huge number of letters from gay listeners?

Yes, for some strange reason, that album got me more e-mails from gay admirers, while a lot of other people saw in it a sort of feminist hatred toward men, even though that wasn't at all what I meant. Those lyrics could really apply to everyone.

What are the five records of your life?

I can't say: it might sound strange, but it's a "too personal" matter. It's a secret…

Among your various influences you've mentioned Smiths, Jackson Browne, Kate Bush…

Right, Kate Bush in particular gave me the confidence not to be afraid of exposing myself emotionally. I used to be afraid even of my own voice, then I listened to "Hounds Of Love" and it made me understand that you should never set yourself limits.

Among the artists you've worked with are some very important names, from John Mellencamp, whom you accompanied on violin in his band, to David Bowie, as well as Neil Finn (Crowded House), Simple Minds, Iggy Pop, Sheryl Crow, Eels… who impressed you the most?

One of the most amazing experiences was working with Bowie. He's such a famous figure… a legend. And he's truly wonderful, very genuine and creative. Many artists, once they've achieved a certain level of fame, become afraid to experiment, to throw their fans off balance. He, on the other hand, was full of enthusiasm, always eager to try new paths, and we talked a lot together. It was wonderful.

Your family is of Italian origin - what kind of relationship do you have with Italy? You should know that, at least within the OndaRock community, you have a great many admirers here…

To me, Italy represents the idea of living life to the fullest. The place where everything is magnified… passion and love for beauty, food, sex, music, wine, fighting, dancing, laughing and crying.

What's the best compliment you've ever heard about your music? And what was the worst thing someone ever said to describe it?

The worst one - though it made me laugh a lot - was used for "Lullaby". Someone wrote: "Avoid this record at all costs!".

The best compliment, on the other hand, came from a listener in a letter: "Your music makes me feel less alone, I feel like it's saved my life sometimes, thank you…". That letter is the reason I keep writing music.

(25/04/2007)

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