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Interview mit Frank Turner – „Songs are lovely. You should just let them be themselves.“

7. Mai 2012

Im April hatte ich das große Glück einen meiner Lieblingsmusiker interviewen zu dürfen: Den britischen Singer/Songwriter und ehemaligen Hardcore Punk Musiker Frank Turner. Ich habe ihn vor seinem Konzert im Werk des Münchner Backstage getroffen und hier ist nun das (nur ganz leicht gekürzte) Interview.

Alex: You are back in Munich. And you’ve actually just been here in December.

Frank Turner: Yes, we were here in December. In the other room here. It’s nice to be back again. And it’s kind of exiting to be playing in the bigger room this time around. I guess that means I’m making friends in Munich.

A: Your music is something that works in small pubs as well as in bigger venues, I think. What do you like better?

FT: I like playing good shows. And what makes a good show is much more than the room that it’s in.  There’s a million different things that make a good show. I like playing everywhere basically. I’ve played great shows to loads of people and terrible ones to no people and vice versa.

A: I believe that your music works mostly through the lyrics.

FT: Yes.

A: So how does it feel to play in a non English speaking country?

FT: The first time that I came to Germany was with The Gaslight Anthem a few years ago. And I was really nervous before the show. I don’t get nervous before shows very often. The first show was in Cologne. And I remember going backstage and thinking „Is anyone gonna get this, at all?“. People speak fantastic English in Germany. It’s really great. And literally ever since that very first show, I’ve always had a really good time in Germany. And I was really surprised how much people get into my stuff here. I remember actually in summer 2011 we were playing Hurricane and Southside festivals. We were playing in the tent and were setting up on stage. And there was noone there. And i remember thinking to myself „Well, you know, you can’t have a great show every day. Sometimes there is noone there“. And then I went backsatge to warm-up my voice. When I came out again, there was like a thousand people there. And I was like „What the hell?“. So, yes, I’m always pleasantly surprised. And my German is really bad, so it is good that we have sort of a common language here.

A: So you’re not planning to do any German songs in the future?

FT: No. I once did a cover of the song „Freiheit“ by Marius Müller-Westerhangen. But I had the words written down on pieces of paper on the floor. I can’t remember them now.

A: You’re sometimes touring alone and sometimes together with your band. What do you like better?

FT: It’s kind of fun for me to be able to switch between the two, because it keep me fresh. The shows are pretty different. At the moment, playing with the band is the main thing I want to do. It can be kind of limiting to have just one instrument.

A: Doesn’t it feel lonely, being alone on tour?

F: I can be. Well, it’s been a while since I’ve toured completely alone. Even when I’m touring alone, I have a sound-guy, a tour manager, a guitar technician. But I did a lot of touring just completely alone. And, yeah, it was rough at times. I mean, I’m not gonna complain about it, because I chose to do it. Nobody made me do it. But I did 18 months of touring in England on the train with a guitar and a rucksack. And that got pretty lonely.

A: Do you have any rituals or tradtions before going on stage?

FT: Aside from the boring stuff like tuning my guitar and warm-up my voice and all that kind of thing… You know the thing is that I really want to be a super-scientific rationalist. But I’m not. I do have my superstitions. It’s more carrying stuff actually. I have this broken compass that a friend of mine gave me. It says „You are home“ on the back of it. I kind of always keep it with me. And I have a navy coin… Also the other thing – I kind of feel like I shouldn’t talk about this, but I will – Something that we kind of started doing as a band lately is smacking each other before we go on stage to get energy. It started because my bass player started whipping himself. And now we started to smack people on the back and on the head and stuff and get everybody exited. But it’s funny. We were on tour with the Dropkick Murphys in America recently. And on the first day they saw us by the stage and smacking each other. And they were like „What the fuck is wrong with you, English people?“

A: So I read that you don’t have a steady place to live. Is that true?

FT: Yes. It’s been about seven years.

A: Oh my god. Don’t you miss having a real home?

FT: I did for a little while. But not anymore. It’s been a long time. I mean, in all honesty, I’ve been looking at getting a place last summer. I got quite close to actually getting a house. And then I suddenly went „I don’t want this. I save my money instead“. Without being to dramatic about it, I think I’ve kind of recalibrated my brain a bit. I just don’t feel the need to live anywhere.

A: So how does songwriting work when you are constantly on tour?

FT: I don’t know. It‘ just sort of… songs show up, you know. In a way I feel like I don’t really know very much about songwriting. It’s something that just kind of happens. I mean, I work hard on it in the sense that I spend a lot of time thinking about it. But I don’t have a technique or anything like that. It’s not like anyone taught me how to write songs. I feel quite strongly that I don’t want to pull the process apart, in case I break it. So I’m quite happy to just kind of leave it alone, let it happen. I mean, we’re going to be in the studio this summer to make a new record and I’ve got about 15 songs finished so far and I’ve got another 15 or so to finish. And then we’ll pick the good ones and then we’ll have a new album.

A: Your lyrics sound very personal. Are they?

FT: Yes, definitely. I mean, honesty is the quality I value the most in art. Having said that: It doesn’t mean that everything has to be absolutely truthfull or autobiographical or whatever. It geniously is because I’m not very good at fiction. I’ve tried. It didn’t go very well.

A: When I listen to your lyrics, and you say they are personal, I get the picture, that whenever you come back to England from a big tour, you go straight to the coast, spread your arms and scream out your love for the country. Is that the case?

FT: My love for the coast maybe; and for the southwest. I don’t know. It’s funny. A lot of people have said that they think that my new record is patriotic – I mean, for obvious reasons. But it’s slightly more complicated for me. There are lots of things about England and Englishness that I really love. And then there’s a lot that I really hate as well. And I haven’t really made up my mind, but I think that the reason that the record came out like it did is just… I do a lot of touring. Particularly when I was doing solo-touring in the states where I’d be the only English person in a crowded room every day for about three months in a row. It gives you time to think about your, kind of, national identity. And I’m not saying it’s a good thing or a bad thing. In fact it’s kind of redundant. It’s a fact, I’m English and I’m defined by where I come from. And I’m interested in that.

A: I’ve seen that many people tattoo your lyrics. How does that feel?

FT: Well, the first time I saw it, I was a little freaked out by it. But then… I mean, I have lyrics from bands tattooed on me, you know? And I totally understand that motivation. I guess it’s difficult for me to accept that people feel the same way about me as I feel about The Hold Steady or Black Flag or whatever. But, I mean it’s great, it’s fantastic. I’m really flattered about it but it’s just a bit weird.

A: So do you have in mind which line could become a tattoo when you’re writing songs?

FT: Goodness no! I hope I’ll never do that. That would be a kind of cold and calculative. To me it would be morally equivalent to trying to come up with songs that would sound good in a car ride. You should write songs to be good songs. I hate it when people try to use songs as means to an end, whether it’s trying to get laid or get rich or whatever. It seems kind of cheap to me. You shouldn’t use songs. Songs are lovely. You should just let them be themselves.

A: A few years ago you sang „All the latest music fads all passed me by and left me cold“. Did that change by now?

FT: No, not at all. Somebody was telling me who or what a „Skrillex“ is, the other day. I actually thought it was pretty good. I listened to some of it. It was crunchy. I liked it.
Lately I’ve been listening to a lot of Gram Parsons and stuff. And then somebody comes up to me and says „Hey, have you heard about some new indie band that‘ on the cover of the NME this week after their one gig“ or whatever. And I’m just like „No. I don’t know. I don’t care“. And then the next thing is –  I don’t know about Germany – but at the moment British music press is – it does this about once every five years – it’s going „Guitar music’s dead!“ And that’s such a stupid thing to say. And it was a stupid thing to say the first time that somebody said it, which was in about 1952. And it’s a stupid thing to say now. So, shut up. So I’m not really caught up on current music trends.

A: So you rather dream about Bob Dylan.

FT: Yes.

A: What does a grown man dream about Bob Dylan?

FT: I actually had a dream about Bob Dylan. I was in downton Detroit, which is not a particularly nice part of the world. Sorry, people from Detroit, but it’s true. And I was there and I had a dream that I got in a car with Bob Dylan. But he didn’t say anything in the dream. I got annoyed, because I wanted to talk to him. I kind of have mixed feelings about Bob Dylan. Everbody thinks from that song that I must be an uber-fan. But I think he’s definitely a hugely culutrally significant figure. But I also think he’s done a lot of really shit stuff. And I think I really don’t approve of the way that he is now. He just seems to be essentially taking the piss out of his own fanbase. Which I think is a bit weak. But then he has also defined modern music and recorded some of the greatest songs ever written. So, it’s a mixed one.

A: You are still using the hardcore abbreviation in your logo. Do you miss the times with Million Dead sometimes?

FT: Yeah, sometimes. But not enough to go back to doing that full time. I have a hardcore sideproject now, that is kind of bubbling. It’s not ready to be served just yet, but it’s kind of coming together.
Using the logo-thing… I mean, first of all it is kind of difficult to have a logo as a solo-artist. It’s just my name, that my parents gave me. And then also to be honest, about the tattoos thing, we did it as a logo and now a lot of poeple have tattoos with it and I kind of feel like we should keep using it – for them. And backdrops behind stages are not cheap, so we’ve got some made with the logo and we’ll stick with them for a while.

A: So you just said that you have a hardcore sideproject. When you are writing songs, do you know if it’s going to be a hardcore song when you start writing?

FT: I’m actually not really writing the music for that project. I’m just doing the lyrics for it. But the thing with that is, I’m trying to do something very different lyrically from what I am doing now. I want it to be very over the top. It’s very tongue-in-cheek. It’s slightly surrealist. We have songs about tapeworm uprisings and stillborn unicorns. It’s supposed to be kind of weird and in-your-face and offensive and odd. It’s kind of liberating for me actually.

A: So what do your old punk fans and friends think about your current musical style?

FT: I think for the most part they’re into it. I mean, when Million Dead broke up and I started to play a few solo-shows and wrote a few songs like this, the biggest push I had in terms of doing it more – ‚cause I wasn’t sure – were a few of my friends saying they thought that this sounded a lot more like me than what I was doing before. And that was a really big compliment for me. And a really big pointer that this is what I should do in my life. I mean, there are a few people who are not into what I am doing now. And that’s fine. It’s different music. I do occasionally get shit from the kind of „punk-rock-purists“. And part of it is just so predictable.  Because if any band or artist reaches a certain point it sets of a curcuit that means that a bunch of assholes living in their parents‘ basement goes „Argh, you’ve sold out.“ And it’s like: „You wouldn’t even know the meaning of the word, child!“ I mean,  I know I shouldn’t care, but it pisses me off. I’ve done everything myself. I’ve done it the hard way. I’ve done it on an independent label, which has two  people who work for it. And I’ve slaved my fucking as off for years and years and years. And I don’t want an appology for that. I don’t want a medal. I don’t want a pat on the head. But for somebody to turn around and tell me he thinks, that I’m like ethically devious or whatever for what I’ve done, is just so spectacularly judgemental and unfair. What would you know? I’ve forgotten more about punk-rock than these kids will ever know. – Sorry for the rant…

A: Did you always want to become a musician?

FT: Ever since I was about ten or eleven or so. I mean, my parents don’t really believe in modern music. They’re both quite musical, but it’s all classical stuff. But when I was about ten I came across Iron Maiden through a friend and my mind exploded. It wasn’t a two staged thing for me: getting into it and then later deciding that I want to do it. As soon as I was into it, I wanted to get a guitar and wanted to learn how to do this. I was not sure how realistic it was for quite a long time. And I think anyone who is an adult who’s doing this has to have kind of a plan B because the number of people who do this for their entire lives is pretty low. But it’s been my passion for most of my life.

A: And you went to school that even I know, even though I’m obviously not British. What did your parents have in mind for you?

FT: Not this. Yes, that’s a point of contention… My mum’s really into what I do now. She’s really cool. She wasn’t for a long time. And you what: I don’t hold that against my parents, because what I do is completely removed from their experience of the world. And I think that my mum thought that going to rock’n’roll shows involved getting injected with heroin when you come through the door and then having sex or whatever. And when I was 13 years old she didn’t want that for me. But my mum is really into it now. Actually my mum is pretty psyched about it, which is really nice. You know, I think my parents wanted me to become a lawyer or something. I mean, I was educated on a scholarship. I worked really hard and passed an exam when I was a kid. So my parents invested a lot in the idea of me doing something more intellectual with my life. But it’s my life.

A: In 2011 you won an award for „hardest working artist“. What is the most work in what you do?

FT: This is a difficult subject for me to get right when talking about it. Because I never want to sound like I’m unappreciative for what I have. I’m fully aware that millions of people would swap their eyeteeth. And I do what I love for a living and that’s fantastic. At the same time there is a perception problem. For example: I put out those tour diary videos from time to time. And we only get out the camera when something really funny is going on. And then I cut it down to the really fun stuff. And then people watch that and think it’s just 24 hours a day what we’re doing on tour. Aside from press and soundchecking and the show I do a lot of accounting and administration. And during the tour in the US with Dropkick Murphys I was running the merchandise and guitar technique for myself which was actually a hell of a lot of work. And I was really drained by the end of it. I’m not a slacker and I get really uncomfortable when people think I am.
A question I get asked regularly in interviews is „What advice would you give new bands?“ And the advice I give is „Be prepared to work your fucking ass off.“ In all honesty, maybe not so much now in the UK and to a less degree in Europe, but certainly for a lot of the last 6-7 years I’ve been working harder than anybody I know, actually. And like I said: It’s something I love and I’m not asking for a pat on the head for that. But I have friends who are bankers and lawyers and accountants and I’ve been working harder than them for the last few years. The thing is, and a lot of people don’t realise it until they actually start thinking about it, I don’t ever go home. I don’t ever clock off. If you work in an office, at 6 p.m. you go home. It never happens to me. I don’t have an office. Everything I do is my work. All the time. So… end rant.
But like I said: I’m not bitching about it and I’m not asking for sympathy.

A: And even though you are so busy you even give out your mail adress.

FT: Yes, that’s another thing I spent a lot of time with.

A: Can one really reach you personally through that adress?

FT: Yes.

A: And how many people write to you?

FT: I get about 50-60 e-mails a day. And I answer them all.

A: And what do people write about?

FT: Everything and anything. And I do my best to reply. I mean sometimes it would just be somebody who sent me a story about how they liked my music and how it has helped them or something. And then I read it and just say „Thank you very much, I apppreciate it.“ It’s a short reply. And then sometimes people ask me to write down words in my handwriting for tattoos or some people ask me to come play at their wedding and sometimes people ask me what time the show finishes or they want to know if they can get an old t-shirt design that we ran out of. Anything really. And I do my best to answer all of them.

A: And you’re also very active on Twitter. How important is this to you?

FT: I wouldn’t say it’s „important“ because – it is just Twitter at the end of the day.  I guess a better way for me is: the really good thing about the internet is, that it’s really good at breaking the barrier between the people who make music and people who listen to music. And I think that one of the bad thing about the music industry in the last 50 years is that it’s  kind of evolved into this thing where musicians are set aside from normal people and I hate that. I think it’s such bullshit. If the musicans you’re listening to have nothing in common with you, then why listen to them?
It’s fun. I like messing around on Twitter and Facebook and the rest of it. Although I do get in trouble frome time to time. I got properly „flamed“ – I think is the word I’m looking for- by a bunch of Michael Jackson fanclubs because I made some comments on Michael Jackson a while ago. That was pretty bad.

A: Do you think there’s a difference between the person on stage and the „regular“ Frank Turner?

FT: I try not to have a difference really. I’m trying to talk about it as honstely as possible. I consider myself to be an entertainer. My job is to make everyone have a good time. So I guess one paints in brighter colours on stage to a degree. But I don’t have a „persona“ or anything. It’s just me playing shows.

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