Forty
years after his first single, The Modfather is back on tour. Duncan Seamen of
The Yorkshire Post catches up with Paul Weller. Main pictures by Tony Johnson.
There’s a
cluster of middle-aged Mods huddled expectantly in the cobbled street by the
stage door at the Victoria Theatre in Halifax. Paul Weller is in town and, 40
years into his musical career, he still inspires a loyal, sharply-dressed
following prepared to arrive several hours before a gig hoping to catch a
friendly word with The Modfather.
Inside the
theatre, as we quickly discover, there are certainly no airs and graces about
the singer whose CV includes two of Britain’s best loved bands, The Jam and The
Style Council, as well as a 25-year solo career. He obligingly helps carry our
photographer’s equipment during his photo session and, as we sit down for our
interview in a sparsely appointed dressing room, he asks his tour manager for
no more than a cup of tea.
Now 56,
Weller looks lean and lightly tanned with a striking thatch of silver hair.
He’s dressed in blue, from his cable knit sweater to his suede desert boots.
His spring
tour of less visited towns – which also includes Scunthorpe, Stoke and
Blackburn – is a prelude to the release of his 12th album, Saturn’s Pattern, a
record that’s been described as “progressive”.
“Well, I
didn’t naturally describe it as that,” he explains. “But a journalist asked ‘Is
it my prog rock album’ and I said ‘It’s not prog rock but it’s progressive’
because I think it’s going places that are certainly pushing my boundaries,
anyway, musically.”
Where many
of his contemporaries from the 70s and 80s may be content to trade off old
hits, Woking-born Weller remains as creatively restless as ever. The likes of
Going Underground, A Town Called Malice and That’s Entertainment are nowhere to
be found in his current set list.
Since
turning 50 in 2008, he seems to have been on a quest to expand his musical
horizons further and further. Shades of folk, jazz, psychedelia, even German
cabaret can be found in his albums 22 Dreams, Wake Up The Nation and Sonik
Kicks.
He agrees
that he suddenly felt freed to do whatever he liked after reaching his landmark
birthday. “I think there was an element of that, definitely. I purposefully set
out to make the most indulgent record I possibly could. I thought ‘Well, if you
get to 50 you can at least indulge yourself’ so that was the basis of the
record but as it turned out a lot of people liked it.
“You just
can’t ever tell, you know. I thought it might be the opposite - I thought
people might find it self-indulgent, but it got a great reaction. I think that
also the reaction to that encouraged me to go a bit further as well, sonically
and in terms of writing and methods of working, in every way, keep changing it
as much as you can.”
In recent
years Weller has cut a happier figure. Married for a second time – to the
singer Hannah Andrews – he’s now a father of young twins, as well as five older
children. In one interview for his last album, he said his songs “came from a
certain platform of stability and being positive – and happiness”. It would
certainly go against the idea that artists’ best work often springs from their
most miserable times.
“No, it is
true,” he reconsiders, “but then when you’re in those kind of moods your choice
of words and vocabulary is much greater. That’s what I think it is anyway, and
I think it’s just harder to write something up-full, happy or joyful or
whatever. It’s just harder to do it without being clichéd or cringy, you know?”
He thinks
he can create “whatever mood” he’s in. “I can either do it or not do it, it
wouldn’t particularly matter, but having said all that, on the new record it’s
got, not in any thematic way, but it’s got a kind of very joyous, uplifting
sound to it. I just thought because we live in such depressing times I didn’t
want to reflect that, I’d rather do something else.”
Banished
from Weller’s life are what he once described as his “booze-binge Britain”
nights of old. Five years ago he became teetotal, a decision, he says, that’s
been markedly for the better.
“Well, I’m
more sane and healthier but the major thing is...well, it’s made a massive
difference, really, because I’m just more present now. I’m more present whether
it’s at work or at home, my mind’s clearer, it’s as simple as that.”
He’s also
got more energy for his children. “I’d been at it a long time and it had got
its claws in me so it was a good enough time to stop.”
He says
that music is what’s kept him going throughout the past 40 years. “Whenever
people say ‘What’s the thing that inspires you to keep going?’ it’s just that;
I’m able to play and do the thing I love the most, I’m able to play music and
express myself and write – that’s what I’ve always done and what I always
wanted to do before I could do.
“When I
was a little kid, probably from the age of ten onwards, it’s all I ever really
thought about. To be given the opportunity to do that not only for a few years
but a lifetime I feel really blessed, to be honest with you.
“It’s what
you put into something as well, it’s the work you put into it, but I still
think I’m quite fortunate.”
Weller
talks fondly of working with old pal Steve Brookes on his new record. As he
points out, Brookes is his “oldest friend”. “We’ve known each other since we
were 14 or something, we started The Jam off together – originally it was just
me and him.”
He is
pleased too to have rekindled his friendship with former Jam bass player Bruce
Foxton. “I was glad to make friends with him again. It really came about
because his wife (Pat, once a press officer at The Jam’s label Polydor) was
really poorly and then she passed away, bless her, that’s how we made contact.
I was just trying to see how she was doing.”
It seems
Weller’s fervour for clothes and music remains undimmed. He even now has his
own menswear range, Real Stars Are Rare.
“I’m a
product of my time,” he explains, “that’s what it was back in the day. There
was football, clothes and music – that was kind of it, really, that was your
entertainment, but those things helped define who you were.
“It’s
different now, it’s less tribal, which is probably a good thing, I don’t know,
but it was very much when I grew up – in the late sixties, early seventies,
formative sort of time anyway, that’s what it was then. When you saw another
kid in the street and you saw what he was wearing you knew what music he was
into, probably what football team he liked, and he was thinking the same as you
and it was that kind of cult thing, subculture.
“But they
were strong influences on me and they never seem to really fade. And probably
for a lot of people of my age or older they’d probably say the same thing.”
What makes
a Mod, he says, with a wry smile is “cleanliness”.
“You know
the Pete Meaden quote, ‘Clean living under difficult circumstances’? That
pretty much sums it up, really. I don’t know...because it’s so adaptable –
there is a certain look, obviously – but it’s endured because it’s so
adaptable.
“For me,
part of it’s philosophy – you absorb whatever’s good and what’s going on, take
a piece of this and put it through your own filter. In the post-modern world I
think that’s what’s made us great as well, we’re good at doing that, aren’t we?
And it comes out really original, I think.
When, back
in the 80s, he was more politically active with the likes of the Red Wedge tour
for the Labour Party, Weller was dubbed a spokesman for his generation. Thirty
years on, he seems wary of politicians. The idea of being a political
figurehead was discomforting, he says.
“It’s
great that people felt I’d caught a mood in my songs and my lyrics and
reflected what other people were going through but I didn’t feel comfortable
with that kind of thing whatsoever, I’d never had to take on a mantle as such.”
Although
he may have sold millions of records, he still thinks of himself as working
class. “Yes, it’s my roots, absolutely. A lot of the things I was taught when I
was a kid from my folks have endured and they’re good. But you only get out of
life what you put into it and whatever you get out of life you have to work for
and those are good ethics to have.”
That work
ethic certainly applies to performing. No matter what size of venue he’s
playing in, he says his approach is the same. “Every gig is a challenge, big or
small. I don’t think I ever approach any gig with anything less than that. It
keeps it interesting for us.”
He still
gets nervous before gigs, too. “Yeah, absolutely. Every night of my entire
life. It’s lessened a little bit but about an hour before I’m due to go on
that’s when it starts. Every night.”
• Paul
Weller’s new album Saturns Pattern is out on May 11. He plays at the First
Direct Arena, Leeds on November 29. Visit www.paulweller.com for further
details.
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